Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The streets of Hell stretched endlessly, a distorted mirror of the city Elvia had once known. Neon signs buzzed in colors that made her eyes ache and her head spin — greens too bright, reds too deep, purples that seemed to crawl along the buildings. Smoke curled from vents, thick and acrid, and somewhere distant a horn — or a scream — pierced the air. Yet amid the chaos, life — or something close enough to it — persisted.

She had taken it upon herself to walk aimlessly down the streets of Hell, trying to kill time before she ran into the familiar demon she had acquainted herself with. Elvia had never understood why he took such a big interest in her, when they had met she was nothing more than a lousy bartender, working in cannibal town to make ends meet. She can still remember the sinister grin he wore as he spoke to her, the lights glimmering from his sharp canines as he attempted to strike up a deal - which she firmly turned down. Where her self-reliance went, she had no clue.

She let out a sigh as she straightened her dress out for the countless time that day - a nervous tick she had brought with her into the afterlife - as she began to grow impatient, a small scowl washing over her face before she caught sight of something. In one of the store windows ahead an object gleamed, the light reflecting off it as Elvia's head snapped towards it and she quickened her pace, stopping just infront of the window as she placed her hands on it - trying to get a closer look as her grin grew. Inside the antique shop lay a record player, almost identical to the one she once had in her shared home. The memory making her smile drop as she continued to stare at the player - ignoring the weird looks from the sinners walking past her - until she felt a hand being placed on her shoulder, causing her head to snap up.

"Gosh, Al! You sure do know how to scare a girl half to death, don't you?" Her tone teasing as she turned to face the familiar deer demon beside her.

Alastor had appeared beside her with his usual flourish, as if he had emerged from the shadows themselves. “Ah, the streets of Hell,” he said, voice smooth and amused, while he tipped an imaginary hat off to her. “So alive, so chaotic, so utterly… fascinating." His hand had dropped to her elbow, as he hooked his arm with hers and walked off, pulling her startled state along with him - oblivious to Elvia attempting desperately to catch up to him. "I do enjoy our little walks. Gives one time to observe the endless parade of… entertainment.”

As she settled into stride with him, Elvia glanced over at him, wiping a bead of imaginary sweat off her brow as a small, wry smile tugging at her lips. “I’m not sure I’d call it entertainment.”

“Oh, no?” Alastor’s laugh was soft and musical, his gaze settled on infront of them as they continued forward. “Perhaps ‘observation of the absurd’ then. We’ll settle on that for now.”

They walked along the cracked pavement, stepping over puddles of dried blood and sidestepping a demon with three heads arguing over a single cigarette. Elvia kept her gaze forward, noting the strange details of the city: the neon reflections, shadows that flickered unnaturally, the occasional twitch of a demon’s claw as it fidgeted.

Alastor had broken the silence between them as he hummed beside her, his tone teasing, almost intimate. “You wander these streets with your eyes open, yet your mind… drifts elsewhere. Fascinating.”

He had noticed the way Elvia stiffened slightly but didn't mention it, as she refused to respond to him, her mind wandering, heart tugging with longing.

Up ahead a crowd had gathered infront of a shop window, the sinners stared intently at the TV's infront of them. The static hum and flickering light drew them in and Elvia had slowed, her head tilted to the side as her ears flicked - a new tick she had gained since she ended up here - as she peered ahead, curious. Her voice was soft as she subtly tried to pull the tall demon along with her. “Looks like… news?” she asked.

Alastor’s grin widened. “Perhaps. Or an opportunity to observe. Let’s see what they’re so captivated by.” He gestured vaguely ahead, as if the direction alone was enough. Elvia noticed he didn’t offer any reason for coming here — he never did. They simply walked, and she followed - as always.

The two demons continued towards the store, Elvia glancing up as they got closer and took a mental note of the name - "Radio Hacks" - she knew she had to drag Alastor along here some other time, though her plan was cut short. As they stopped near the back of the crowd, the abrupt stop being so sudden that she almost walked stright into Alastor, as the two stared intently at the TV screen infront of them. On the screen, a pale-skinned girl with bright eyes nervously tried to advertise her hotel, her voice weak as her confidence slowly dropped - Alastor's grin grew, while Elvia's mind wandered.

Just when she thought the broadcast couldn't get worse, the girl started singing - she had to admit, her voice was heavenly - but she felt sorry for her, it was obvious she had grown desperate and just as she was about to scoff and make a comment to the deer beside her, she paused. Elvia’s breath caught. "The Happy Hotel?"

Watching the girl sing with such raw energy in a place like this touched something deep inside her. She remembered quiet evenings, the soft calling of her name in a voice she’d never forget… the memories she kept tucked carefully away. Her dreams of being redeemed, of finally reuiniting with him came rushing back.

Alastor looked over at the smaller deer demon beside him, as his grin grew and he leaned slightly closer, his tone teasing but sharp. “Ah, hope. Such a dangerous little thing. So fragile… and yet, so deliciously compelling. You seem… touched, my dear.”

Elvia pursed her lips as she tensed up, glancing away. “It’s inspiring. But it’s hard not to wonder if change is even possible here.”

“Impossible? Perhaps. Improbable? Almost certainly,” Alastor said, chuckling as he turned his attention towards the TV's again. “But isn’t that what makes the chase enjoyable? To strive for something you cannot yet grasp?”

The crowd around them laughed and cheered as the girl and the news presenter - Katie Killjoy - began brutally fighting each other, though Elvia's gaze remained on the ground beneath her.

Alastor’s gaze flicked toward her, sharp and knowing. “Such tenacity. So very… human. Still chasing that glimmer, I see.”

Elvia swallowed, her grip around Alastor's arm tightened as if it could anchor her in this chaotic world. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get there… but I have to try.”

The screen faded as the broadcast aprubtly ended. The crowd dispersed, leaving only the hum of neon lights and the faint smell of smoke. Alastor stepped away from the edges of the crowd and started walking toward the looming silhouette of the hotel, Elvia followed closely behind him, their arms still interlaced.

She couldn't help the hesitation growing in her as she followed him blindly, slowly regretting placing her trust in the radio demon. She didn’t know where they were going, and Alastor had offered her no explanation, just the confident rhythm of his stride, and his occasional upbeat humming as they walked. There was an unspoken authority in the way he moved, as though he already knew where the path would lead.

“Shall we?” he said smoothly, almost casually, not turning to look at her.

Elvia nodded, letting her grip on him tighten as she raised her other hand and tightly grasped his arm, a small anchor to calm her growing anxiety.

The walk toward the hotel stretched long and winding, each turn of the street pulling them deeper into Hell’s sprawl. The silhouette of the building rose in the distance, its gothic spires stabbing upward against a sky that glowed in hues of red and ash. It looked abandoned, weary. But something about it whispered of potential.

Elvia kept pace beside Alastor, her eyes flicking over the crooked windows and cracked brick. “This is it? The place she had mentioned in the broadcast?”

Alastor’s grin widened, sharp as a blade. “Indeed it is! Quite the ambitious little project, don’t you think? A hotel for redemption! Oh, the irony. The novelty! It’s positively delicious.”

Elvia tilted her head, studying the building as they approached. “It doesn’t look like much.”

“Ah, but therein lies the charm!” Alastor’s laugh rang out across the street, startling a nearby demon who scurried into the shadows. “A foundation! A blank canvas! With the right touch, one can transform even the most pitiful husk into something… memorable.”

They reached the front steps, slowly making their way towards the main door as Elvia's worry grew, while Alastor's grin only deepened. Glancing over at her, he spared her a quick wiggle of his eyebrows before aprubtly knocking against the door - not hesitating before banging his hand against it again. The wait was agonising as Alastor slowly dropped his hand and the faniliar static he emitted filled the air, causing Elvia to flinch instinctively.

The door infront of them slowly opened to reveal the girl from before, her eyes were blown wide as she stared at the two for a moment. Alastor's grin grew as he lifted his arm - still interlaced with Elvia's - and raised his finger in greeting. "Hel-" Before he could finish, the door slammed in his face. Before opening once more, as he continued "lo!" The door was once again slammed in their faces as Elvia felt the hope she once had slowly fizzle away, it was stupid to have gotten her hopes up, but she couldn't help it - her ears lowered slightly.

The demon beside her kept his hand in the same position, as he turned his head towards her, silently asking for her take on what to do. Just as she opened her mouth to respond, the girl had returned and opened the door again, as the two demons snapped their attentions back to her. Alastor's grin dropping slightly as he spoke. "May I speak now?" Elvia tensed as she observed the two.

The girl crossed her arms as she attempted to remain calm, though Elvia could see through her facade, and she was sure Alastor could too. "You may."

The second she finished speaking Alastor finally withdrew his arm from hers and instead threw it out infront of him, allowing the girl to shake his hand as he spoke enthusiastically. "Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite the pleasure!" Not wasting time, he took matters into his own hands and grasped the girls hand shaking it aggressively while pulling her towards him as he continued speaking, before releasing her hand and gesturing towards Elvia. "This little darling here, is Elvia! Excuse our sudden visit but we saw your fiasco on the picture show and I just couldn't resist! What a performance!" Elvia and the girl stared at each other for a moment, before she slowly stepped in and watched as the girl closed the door behind her, as Alastor began looking around. "Why I haven't been that entertained since the stock market crash oh 1929! Hahaha! So many orphans."

Elvia's eyes widened and her breath hitched as she watched another girl pull out a spear, as she pointed it right at Alastor and spoke lowly. "Stop right there! I know your game and I'm not gonna let you hurt anyone here you pompus, cheesy, talkshow shitlord." She stood frozen as she watched the girl push her spear closer towards Alastor and without thinking walked closer towards them, but the static emitting from the radio demon made her stop in her tracks.

Alastor let out a hollow laugh, before pushing the tip of her spear down as his grin grew. "If I wanted to hurt anyone here, I would have done so already." The static grew louder as the smaller deer demons head began to ache, she promptly strode over to him and placed a hand on his arm. The static immediately cut off as he shook his head slightly, his cheerful demeanour returning. "Now, I'm here because I want to help!" The two girls infront of him didn't seem impressed as they stared at him for a moment, before they both glanced towards Elvia - the attention making her shift on her feet anxiously - before they turned back to him.

"Say what now?" their expressions remained blank as Alastor continued his proposal.

"Help! Hahaha! Hello? Is this thing on?" He slowly raised his microphone cane, softly tapping it as he continued, "testing, testing."  An eye appeared on the microphone as Elvia slowly reclined, taking a step away from him - she had always hated when he did that, the extra eye on the microphone making her grow uneasy. She had slowly blocked out the rest of their conversation, instead turning away from them and slowly walking deeper into the hotel, admiring the architecture - although it looked as though the place had been abandoned.

A hand on her shoulder caused her head to whip around, only to be met with Alastors lazy grin again, as he let out a low hum. "What's your plan here, Al? If your here for entertainment I suggest you leave now, I had genuine reasons to come here. You know why I want this so badly, so please, don't ruin it for me." Her voice was raw with emotions, as the demon infront of her stared blankly back at her, his face void of any reaction. Before she could continue, the girl had returned, her eyes wide as she stared at Elvia.

"Your here to be.. redeemed? Your not here to 'help' like him?" She could hear the excitement coming from her voice, as she stared expectantly at her - the two locking eyes as a new found hope grew in both of them.

"Yeah, I've been wanting to try seek redemption for some time but.. Well.. It's," Elvia trailed off for a second before clearing her throat and weakly glancing around. "It's not the easiest to come about down here. But I'm willing to give it a go. Whatever it takes."

The girl’s eyes practically sparkled, her hands clasping together like she might burst into song any second.

“That’s wonderful! That’s… that’s exactly what I’ve been hoping for! You’re the first one who’s actually said it—like, really meant it!” Her voice cracked, and she quickly smoothed her skirt, composing herself with a deep breath.

Elvia shifted, uncertain at the sudden intensity, while Alastor let out a sharp chuckle, the kind that sliced through the air like a razor.

“Oh, how precious!" his tone was sarcastic as his unnatural grin grew, though it never reached his eyes.

Elvia shot a glare in his direction, silently telling him to back off and to her shock - he did. He took a step back from the two women as he stared at them, drumming his fingers along his microphone as he impatiently waited for them to continue speaking. Elvia let out a small sigh as she finally glanced uo towards the girl infront of her, opening her mouth to speak - but she was promptly cut off.

"Oh, I haven't introduced myself yet! I'm Charlie Morningstar, that girl over there is my girlfriend Vaggie!" Her voice was rushed as she spoke, almost jumping with excitement as she stepped closer to Elvia, grasping one of her hands in her own as she continued. "The other guy is Angel Dust, though I'm sure you know him, he was the first person to come here." Charlie turned back to face her, her eyes gleaming  with excitement.

"I actually don't. It's a pleasure to meet you all." The spider demon practically fell off the sofa he had been lazily lounging on, his eyes blown wide as he stared at her.

"Hold on doll, your saying you don't know who i am?" Elvia had turned her attention onto him and simply blinked before shaking her head as a nervous smile grew on her face - Angel stared at her dumbfounded as he let out a small scoff. "I'm the Angel Dust. Does that not ring any bells? You know Hell's most famous porn star?"

Elvia's expression shifted as she stared at him apologetically, her tone sincere. "Oh, I don't watch porn. I'm very sorry I don't know who you are, I'm sure we will get to know each other better." An awkward silence washed over everyone.

Charlie gave Elvia's hand a soft squeeze as she dropped it, turning to face the radio demon beside then. "Okay, so, now. You're sketchy as fuck and you clearly see what I'm trying to do here as a joke." She turned away exhaustively, gesturing with her hands while she spoke - Alastor on the other hand glanced at Elvia as his grin grew, a low static hum sounding out, making her skin crawl. Before promptly being silenced as Charlie glanced over her shoulder at him, making his eyes widen as he stood straighter than before. "But I don't, I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better," She glanced at Elvia as she continued, a small smile on her face. "So, I'm taking your offer to help. On the condition that there be no trickster, voodoo strings attached."

His grin grew larger - though Elvia doubted it was even possible - as he twirled his cane around in his hand, before stretching his free one out towards Charlie, a green hue emitting from him as a gust of wind blew Elvia's hair around. "So it's a deal then?" She let out a sigh as she quickly raised her hands, desperately attempting to fix her hair before quickly fixing her dress as Charlie abruptly shot her hand out, smacking his away - declining his offer - making Elvia let out a small hum in appreciation, glad the wind had stopped.

"Nope! No shaking, no deals. I, hm..." She trailed off as she slowly stepped away from Alastor, closing her eyes for a moment to compose herself before turning back around, locking eyes with the smaller deer demon - noticing she small smile she had on her face and she small nod she gave in encouragement - as she continued. "As princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I, uh, hereby order that you help with this hotel. For as long as you desire." The air was tense, as a silence settled among them, everyones eyes set on the radio demon as they awaited his response, impatient, Charlie continued. "Sound fair?"

Alastor teasingly glanced at Elvia as he let out a small hum. "What do you think, dear? Sound fair?" Her eyes widened as she felt everyones attention snap on her, a small scowl ghosting over her lips as she let out a small sigh.

"I'd say it is."

Without a pause the taller deer turned back towards Charlie and shrugged nonchalantly. "Fair enough." As the princess let out a satisfied sigh, giving Elvia a thumbs up as she wiped the imaginary sweat from her brow, while Alastor wandered off, inspecting the hotel as he hummed once again.

The deer didn't know what to do with herself, she contemplated questioning Charlie, but decided to entertain herself at the reception desk instead - noticing Angel Dust had wandered over there too. She softly climbed onto the seat beside him, sparring a small smile in his direction before glancing elsewhere. An awkward silence had enveloped them, as Angel shifted in his seat before letting out a deep sigh, turning to face her with a bored expression on his face.

"So, doll. Why are you here?" The question caught her off guard as she straightened in her seat, clearing her throat a little before turning to face him - her expression soft.

"I hope to be redeemed. To get up to heaven, you know. Like you." The cackle he let out startled her, as her eyes opened slightly. He had hunched over, grasping onto the receptionist desk as small giggles escaped him. Confused, Elvia tilted her head slightly as her ears drooped. "Did I say something funny?"

"Funny? Honey, I'm here for the free room. I ain't looking to be redeemed." He slowly pushed himself up, leaning back into his seat while he looked at her - ears drooped as her expression dropped - he almost felt sorry for her. "Why do you care so much about being redeemed anyway? Hell's not as shit as you'd expect. You get used to it."

Her voice was softer this time, so quiet he almost didn't hear it over Alastors voice in the background. "I want to see my husband again." She had refused to look at him - instead busying herself with her fingers as she stared down at her lap. Though Angel's confusion only grew.

"Your husband? Ain't that radio guy your husband?" Elvia's head immediately snapped up, a look of disgust evident on her face as she let out a sound similar to a gag.

"You thought Alastor was my husband?! God, no. I have some taste, thank you very much." He let out a small snicker as he listened to her grow repulsed at the thought of being married to Alastor - but he caught the silent mumble under her breath at the end of her rant. "I miss you, Vincent."

His eyebrows raised as he leaned closer to her, crossing his legs. "Vincent? That's sounds... ancient. When the hell did you end up here?" It was only now that he had taken in her appearance - she donned a light blue dress with discoloured white spots, the lacing surrounding the bottom and the sleeves had been ripped, it looked at though she had been dragged through a bush, though the rest of her was spotless, not a hair out of place.

"I died in 1947."

His eyes widened as a large grin tugged at his lips. "Well damn sweetheart, looks like we're twins." He watched as a look of confusion washed over her, before a large smile appeared on her face - he had to stop himself from reclining when he noticed the sharp set of teeth she had, glimmering in the light from a nearby lamp.

"You died in '47 too? That's amazing! I haven't been able to find anyone from that time, only Alastor, but he died in '33, so it doesn't really count." Angel was shocked, he hadn't expected the small deer to suddenly open up to him so fast, though before he could respond, the radio demon had approached the two causing Elvia to pause her rambling and a silence to wash over them.

"And what can you do, my feminine fellow?" Alastor had crouched down to be face to face with the two, he stared primarily at Angel Dust - but spared a few glances in Elvia's direction. Angel's smirk grew as he leaned back against his seat.

"I can suck your dick."

A loud screech followed as Alastor's eyes widened, his voice deplete of any emotion. "Ha! No."

Angel glanced over at Elvia, receiving a small shrug in return as he leaned his head in his hand, continuing to stare at Alastor. "Your loss."

Alastor had strayed away from them and instead wandered into the centre of the room, alternating his cane from hand to hand. "Well this just won't do. I suppose I can cash in a few favours to liven things up." With a click of his fingers, the fireplace had lit up as something dropped down into it. Elvia and Angel had gotten up from the reception desk and stood with Vaggie and Charlie instead - the two sharing looks with one another - as Alastor wandered over to the fire and picked up what had fallen into the fire. An eye had appeared and they all flinched, as the soot dissipated, Elvia quickly recognised who it was, while Angel had creeped closer to her - questioning what Alastor was holding. "This little darling is Niffty."

He dropped her from his grasp. She quickly pushed herself up and waved to everyone, a large grin on her face when she recognised Elvia. "Hi Elvia! I'm Niffty. It's a pleasure to meet you. It's been a while since I made new friends. Why are you all women? Are there any men here?! I'm sorry, that's rude. Oh, man. This place is filthy. Elvia, why haven't you helped clean? It really needs a ladies touch, which is weird because your all ladies. No offence. Oh, my god, this is awful."

A soft smile grew on Elvia's face as Niffty ran around, desperately trying to clean the hotel, while the other three demons stood frozen, shocked at the little demons antics. But their attention quickly shifted to the new voice in the room.

"Heh, read 'em and weep boys." A pool table had been transported into the hotel, along with a familiar cat demon as he suddenly turned around to face everyone. "The hell? What the fuck is this?" He glanced around until his sights fell onto Alastor, as he raised one of his claws and pointed at him. "You." His eyebrows furrowed as a scowl grew on his face, as he quickly glanced around - his eyes meeting with Elvia's as a grin appeared on her lips, she softly waved at him - but his attention was quickly drawn back to Alastor.

"Ah, Husker my good friend, glad you could make it!"

"Don't you 'Husker' me, you son of a bitch. I was about to win the whole damn pot." He gestured behind him as the pool table slowly disappeared, along with his winnings.

"Good to see you too."

Husk slowly lowerer himself onto one of the stools as he face palmed himself his scowl deep, as he was already pissed off at the radio demons antics. "What the hell do you want with me this time?"

Alastor roughly threw an arm around his shoulder as he pulled the cat demon closer to him. "My friend, I am doing some charity work so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services," The radio demon roughly poked him in the chest as he referred to the other demon, as his large gring grew. "I hope that's okay."

Elvia and the others watched the whole exhange from afar, as Husk grew more annoyed. "Are you shitting me?"

"Hm." Alastor softly wiggled his eyebrows, glancing in Husk's direction as his grin grew sly. "No, I don't think so."

Elvia couldn't help but grow bored of their bickering and instead sidestepped closer to Angel Dust, having grown fond of him in the short time they had known each other. The two began to quietly snicker together, blocking out the harsh shouts of Husk and the curt replies from Alastor, until Angel's attention drifted from her, to the newfound bar infront of them - he roughly shoved his elbow in her direction, grasping her attention as she let out a huff. His eyes were wide with excitement, while Elvia had a small frown on her face.

Vaggie had quickly ran to the front of the bar, waving her arms about wildly as she yelled. "Hey! Hey, hey, hey! No. No bar. No alcohol. This place is supposed to be a place that discourages sin. Not some kind of brothel, mancave." Halfway through her shouting, Angel had wandered off from Elvia and Charlie, sneaking up beside Vaggie as he carefully wrestled her. Pushing her onto the floor as he landed on top of her, grasping her arms tightly - Charlie and Elvia looked at each other for a beat, before glancing back at the two.

"Shut up. We are keeping this." He had kept his tone sharp as he pointed to the bar, before quickly getting off of Vaggie and wandering over to the bar, leaning up against it seductively as he spoke to Husk, his tone suggestive. "Hey,"

Before he could continue, Husk had quickly turned away from the spider demon, his grip on the bottle of booze in his hand tightening as his scowl deepened once more. "Go fuck yourself."

Angel's smirk grew as he held Husk's face in his hand, moving himself closer to the cat as he spoke. "Only if you watch me." Before he could continue, Charlie roughly pushed him out of the way, and began enthusiastically talking to Husk. Angel scowled for a moment before a hand fell infront of his face, above him Elvia stood with her arm stretched out, waiting for him to grasp her hand so she could pull him up.

He quickly brushed himself off as the two stood side by side at the side of the bar, carrying on their conversation from earlier. The two had decided to block out Alastor's singing, but became startled when their clothes were changed with a click of his fingers - Elvia couldn't help but complain, but it fell on deaf ears, her voice easily being blocked out by the music.

Just as the song was about to end, a loud explosion sounded out from behind Alastor, peering around him Elvia noticed the large hole in the wall and tensed up. Everyone slowly creeped up to the hole together, peeking out and noticing the large blimp heading towards the hotel. Elvia couldn't help but let out a small sigh, as Angel Dusk grabbed her arm, slowly pulling her along outside with the rest of the hotel as they stared up at the blimp. A snake demon appeared, his grin sharp as he stared down at everyone.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is harbouring this striped freak. We meet yet again, Alastor." Alastor's grin remained wide as he turned to Elvia, silently commanding her to come closer - which she did wordlessly while he spoke.

"Do we know him?" Shifting her gaze from Alastor back to the snake demon she paused for a moment, racking her brain of any recollection of him, but came up with nothing.

Shaking her head softly she turned back to the red deer, her voice low. "Not from what I can remember."

The snake's demeanour fell as his expression shifted, anger washing over him as he retreated back into his blimp. "Oh, yes you do!" The members of the hotel had no choice but to watch as a lazer dropped from the blimp, charging up as it aimed right at Alastor and Elvia, but before it could fire Alastor had clicked his fingers once again. Nothing had happened, and it made Elvia nervous, as she glanced up at the taller demon beside her, mentally cursing at him. When suddenly large tentacles rose from a hole in the ground, plunging into the blimp, and wrapping around it, before crushing it - causing a small explosion.

The other hotel members stood behind Alastor and Elvia, their eyes blown wide as they looked between where the blimp once was, and the two deer demons infront if them, noticing the larger one had a sinister grin on his face, while Elvia had a small smile. The sinister atmosphere surrounding them shattering as Alastor grasped Elvia's arm, turning her around with him as he spoke, a welcoming grin on his face and his voice cheery. "Well, I'm starved! Who wants some jambalaya? My mother once showed me a wonderful recipe for jambalaya, in fact it nearly killed her! Hahaha! You could say that kick was right out of hell! Hahaha! I'm on a roll, aren't I dear?"

Elvia couldn't help but laugh at his jokes, nodding along in agreement as he stared expectingly at her. "You sure are, Al." It was almost as if her small words of encouragement egged him on, as he continued throwing his terrible joked around, the rest of the hotel members groaned, but followed along behind the two deer demons.

Elvia slowly reached up and touched the ring that still hung on a thin chain around her neck, hidden beneath her dress collar.

If she could change… if she could somehow prove herself… maybe she’d see him again, somewhere far away from Hell.

Her smile softened at the thought, unaware of the truth—that Vincent was closer than she could ever imagine.

Chapter Text

The days following had been a blur. Alastor had taken it upon himself to change the name of the hotel - much to Charlie's dismay - and it was no longer know as the 'Happy Hotel' but rather the 'Hazbin Hotel'. Elvia couldn't help but admit that she liked the new name better, as much as she hated to side with Alastor, she felt as though the new name had a ring to it. The wedding band around her neck was a constant reminder of why she was here, keeping her grounded with the never ending memories of the man she never though she'd see again - but now, she had the opportunity to change, placing her hope in Charlie.

The hotel had been hectic, Niffty was constantly running around cleaning invisible dust, while husk had made the bar his base of operations, never leaving it or being seen without a bottle in his hand. Elvia had taken it upon herself to catch up with him after the snake demon had left, the two sharing a unique bond over their previous mistakes - one regret hanging heavy between the both of them. Elvia had barely seen Angel Dust, she could faintly remember him mentioning he had work and remembers his drunken complaints about his boss - she could only assume he was talking about the porn industry, though she couldn't be sure. Alastor had forced her to tag along with him, helping in the production of the hotels first commercial - much to her reluctance.

The streets of Hell were alive with a strange, chaotic energy—neon lights flickered against cracked pavement, and the distant wails of souls mingled with the occasional clatter of something far too heavy hitting the ground. Elvia kept her pace steady, her heels clicking softly behind Alastor's polished stride.

He didn't glance back. Of course he didn't. Alastor's grin was permanently fixed in place, sharp teeth gleaming beneath the bowler's shadow. It was unnerving, the way he moved with that unnerving confidence, as if the entire infernal city bent itself to his will—or at least ought to.

"Do you always walk so silently?" she asked finally, her voice careful, trying not to startle him.

Alastor's laugh, low and crackling like static, spilled into the night. "My dear, silence is merely the absence of opportunity. And I assure you—opportunity is everywhere." His cane tapped a rhythmic pattern against the pavement, echoing unnervingly off the nearby buildings.

Elvia swallowed. She wanted to press for clarity—where were they going, what were they planning—but the words stuck in her throat. There was something about the way Alastor moved, about the effortless control he exuded, that made asking questions feel almost... dangerous.

They had continued walking, Elvia trailing behind Alastor as he glanced in store windows occasionally while walking by, until he abruptly stopped. Elvia had taken this as her opportunity to catch up to the radio demon, slowing her pace as she stopped next to him - staring at the scene ahead of them.

Her expression shifted - a faint grin tugged at her lips - taking her eyes off the two demons infront of them, she turned to Alastor, his grin remained unwavering as he clicked his fingers. A small camera fell into Elvia's hands - the sudden weight catching her off guard as she desperately tried not to drop it.

"Alastor, what are we-" Her voice was laced with confusion as she had turned to fully face him now.

"We've been trusted with recording the hotel's commercial, have we not? We require equipment, my dear."

Alastor's voice warbled with glee as he gestured ahead. Elvia followed his line of sight, her grin threatening to show as her eyes landed on the "actors" he had chosen. Two demons — filthy, ragged, their eyes wild with bloodlust — were locked in a furious brawl right there on the pavement. Rusty blades clashed, sparks flying as each strike grew more desperate and vicious.

Elvia blinked in confusion. "You can't be serious."

"Why, of course I am!" Alastor clapped his hands, cane tapping the ground like a conductor setting tempo. "What better way to demonstrate the need for our fine establishment than to showcase... the problem?"

The demons snarled, one jabbing the other squarely in the gut. Blood spilled, but instead of recoiling, the wounded demon cackled and swung back harder. The sound of steel piercing flesh echoed through the alley.

Elvia's grip on the camera tightened. "This isn't advertising — it's entertainment, carnage."

"Ah-ah-ah!" Alastor wagged a finger, grin never faltering. "Carnage sells, my dear. Misery, desperation, the unrefined savagery of Hell — why, it makes for excellent television!" He leaned close, static crackling faintly in her ear. "Now... point and shoot."

Elvia adjusted her grip on the camera, her expression blank as she examined it. The buttons looked dated, almost antique, but faint blue symbols pulsed faintly on its frame. Her stomach turned. It was oddly familiar—too modern for Alastor, but too polished to be cobbled together from junk. She traced one glowing seam with her thumb, unease prickling at her.

"Where did you get this?" she asked quietly, suspicion heavy in her voice.

Alastor leaned in slightly, static hissing faintly in the air. "Oh, let's just say... an old friend had no more need for it. Waste not, want not!" His chuckle was sharp, deliberate, and when his red eyes flicked to her, she had the chilling sense that he was watching her reaction. Testing her.

She looked down again at the camera, heart beating faster. She didn't know why, but the faint glow of its edges stirred something half-buried in her chest, a memory she wasn't ready to name.

Her stomach churned. Reluctantly, she lifted the camera. Its lens focused instantly, adjusting with a mechanical hum that made her flinch. The fight zoomed closer on the screen, the snarls, screams, and wet squelch of stabbing amplified in sharp detail.

The memory of that day haunted her, the intensity of Alastors glare left her unnerved, his words replaying on repeat inside of her mind. The sounds of Charlie and Vaggie settling onto the sofa infront of the two deer demons made her snap out of her daze, putting her attention onto them instead as she toyed with the remote in her hands.

"Are you guys ready for this? Me and Al spent a long time editing this, so it better be worth it." Her tone was teasing but a slither of threat was evident, the two womans eyes widening from the sofa as they stared at her - the sharp canines she had being hiding were on full display now, causing them to shudder.

Charlie leaned forward, her smile trembling as she folded her hands neatly in her lap. "O-Of course! I'm sure it's... great!"

Beside her, Vaggie's expression was far less forgiving. Her brows knit tight, one hand gripping the sofa's arm like she expected it to explode. "You let Alastor edit this?"

Elvia tilted her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Correction. Me and Alastor edited this. I just... supervised most of it." Her thumb hovered over the button, the weight of the remote suddenly heavier than it should've been. "So if it's a disaster, I suppose that makes me only an accomplice."

Alastor stood beside her, leaning casually on his cane, grin stretched impossibly wide. "Oh, don't be so modest, my dear! You were instrumental in capturing the essence of our little project. Why, without you, it simply wouldn't have the same... charm." His voice crackled with static at the edges, like an old radio just out of tune.

Elvia's jaw tightened, but refused to let it show. The memory of his eyes, red and unblinking as he handed her that camera, replayed in her mind. The way the lens had hummed, the faint glow along its seams. She shook the thought off, focusing instead on the expectant pair across from her.

"Alright then," she said softly as her smile slowly grew, and pressed the button.

The screen flickered to life with a jarring blast of static before cutting to the brutal scene of one demon stabbing another, Alastor's rehearsed voice commentating over it. "Well, hello there you wayward sinner. Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do. That's why you're in Hell!" Alastor and Elvia stared intently at the TV screen, proud grins on their faces as they occasionally glance at each other - not noticing the wide eyes of the two women infront of them.

"But what would you say if I told you that there was a place to stay that had none of that? Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption!" The scene had changed from the blood stained streets of Hell to the front of the hotel, the camera shaking as it pinned down to Elvia grinning outside it. "Founded five days ago by Lucifer's delusional daughter, Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your fate in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her daddy issues by fixing you!"

The video wobbled as it followed closely behind Elvia, her hand extending as she showcased different areas of the hotel as Alastor commentated. "Here, we offer fun things! Such as somewhat functional staff! And 24 hour Pest Control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor!"

The scene had changed again, this time focusing on Elvia and Angel Dust as they lounged on one of the many loveseats together, their expressions blank as Angel lazily draped one of his arms around her shoulders. "Enjoy riveting conversation with our two residents! Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here."

The video promptly ended as the TV turned off, large grins on Elvia and Alastor's faces as they turned back to Charlie and Vaggie. "So, what'd ya' think?"

Silence eloped them all for a beat, before Vaggie's expression dropped, her eyes flickering between the two deer demons as she spoke. "I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?"

Charlie's grin still remained but her voice was soft, as she slowly raised her hand. "Uh, yeah, one note.." Elvia's grin fell, quickly being replaced by a scowl as her ears drooped. The sound of static slowly got louder as Charlie continued. "Elvia, Alastor, I mean- First off, thank you two so much for making this, seriously amazing, but um... maybe the tone is a bit... off?"

Elvia's scowl grew as she let out a quiet growl, her ears downturned, while Alastor's brows furrowed and he tilted his head to the side, keeping his grin tight as he spoke. "Off?"

"We want people to want to come here, this makes it look... um.." Charlie trailed off as she searched for the right word, while Elvia and Alastor's expressions remained unchanged.

Vaggie crossed her arms as she turned to Charlie, her tone stern as she spoke. "Bad. The word you're looking for is bad."

Elvia had opened her mouth - ready to bite back at Vaggie, but Alastor had beat her to it, tucking his cane behind his back as he raised his other hand to his chest. "Funny. I was going for hilarious!"

Charlie's eyebrows furrowed, while Vaggie leaned forward in her seat, a large scowl on her face. "It didn't explain anything about how we're trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole fucking point."

Before the smaller demon could argue back, Charlie had immediately cut in. "Vaggie is right, you guys. The commercial was to let sinners know we are trying to help them."

Taking a step forward, Elvia crossed her arms over her chest, her ears downturned as her teeth showed. "And how do you suppose we do that? Parade around Hell and ask people to join your cause? Should we invite them here for a spot of afternoon tea?" Her tone was venomous as she spoke, while Charlie, Vaggie and Angel Dust stared at her with wide eyes - they had never seen her act like this before.

Alastor took an abrupt step forward, placing his hand on her shoulder as he pulled her back slightly, sending her a glare before turning his attention back to Charlie. "Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show! The proper medium to express oneself!" Alastor spared Elvia a teasing glance - he got a low growl in return - before continuing. "But you insisted on this: noisy picture box advertisement, so we had a little fun with it."

The deer demon let out a sigh as she glanced to her right, locking eyes with Angel, deciding on joining him on the loveseat - she made her way over, while he sat up making room for her before she plopped down harshly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh, fun. You guys had a little fun with it? Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here a week ago, you told us you would help run this hotel! Instead, you're mocking us. Nobody's going to want to come to a place that a powerful overlord like you thinks is a waste of time!" Elvia and Angel rolled their eyes as Vaggie spoke, before the spider raised his hand, gaining the attention of the other demons infront of them. "What?"

"If'n ya filmin' a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?" He smoothed his hair out as he spoke, glancing at Elvia with a sly grin on his face as he pointed to himself.

Vaggie stared at him, dumbfounded. "Angel, you're a porn star."

"A famous porn star. I'll have the horniest sinners knockin' these walls down to get in." His smile grew while he spoke, before kicking his legs up into Elvia's lap - causing a frown to grow on her face, she had just washed her dress.

Vaggie's anger only grew as her voice got louder. "We are not filming a porn as a commercial."

The spider shrugged nonchalantly as he continued. "Why not? Sex sells, don't it?" Alastor had shrunk into his shadows and appeared beside Elvia - standing next to the loveseat. "I swear if you film me goin' at it with mister fancy talk-creepy voice here," he paused for a beat before turning to Elvia. "Or better yet, Bambi Eyes here," Angel smirked, dragging out the nickname as he gave Elvia an exaggerated once-over. "All wide-eyed, sweet, and tragic-lookin'. Every horny bastard in Pentagram City'll be lining up beggin' for redemption."

He winked, lips curling in a grin. "Hell, I'd sign up twice." Elvia's eyes widened as a blush grew on her cheeks as her ears twitched, while she noticed Alastor tense up from beside her, refusing to look at anyone as he spoke - his eyes narrowing.

"Haha! Never going to happen!"

She nodded in agreement as she glared at Angel her voice was calm, deceptively soft, but every word carried hostility. "Keep it up, spider," she said evenly, leaning slightly on the loveseat. "And I guarantee you'll regret it."

Sensing the growing tension, Charlie quickly leaned forward in her seat, her voice soft. "Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your special skills to um, attract folks to the hotel, but- I really don't want to exploit you, in that way!"

Angel had moved his legs, slowly pulling them from Elvia's lap as he sat up straight in his seat, a large grin on his face. "Oh, please, baby. The body was made to be exploited! I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs. I got the lung capacity-- Oh-oh I got the legs, the gag reflex, the holes.." The spider demon continued to go on while Elvia shifted uncomfortably beside him, having never seen him act like this before, it shocked her. Charlie's ringtone interrupted his babbling as she excused herself, hurrying out of the room. Angel held the bottle in his hand loosely as he turned to the deer beside him, offering her some of it's contents - which she politely turned down, though her eyes filled with longing - making him shrug before chugging some. "I could keep goin' all night, baby."

Angel slowly fell back onto the sofa, resting his legs on Elvia's lap again as he alternated looking between her and Vaggie. "Hey, I have a question..." The deer let out a sigh as she fell further into the sofa, leaning her head back as she stared at the ceiling - her mind wandering and she blocked out the yells around her. Her mind drifted to Vincent, the memories they once shared still felt so raw, the times they would dance together, when she would wake up early enough to catch him before he went to work - the old memory making her eyes water before she quickly blinked them away.

Her ears twitched as she slowly raised her head, peering over the loveseat as Charlie began singing, pulling Vaggie along with her as she ran around the lobby. Angel and her shared a look as a small smirk grew on his face, while hers fell - he pushed himself up as he leaned closer to her ear. "You owe me 20 bucks now."

She let out a loud sigh as he pulled her up, dragging her to the doors of the hotel as they watched Charlie run down the street, singing enthusiastically as she twirled, while Vaggie stood behind them, her voice tense. "Okay, but just don't... sing to them."

Angel let out a snicker as he turned back, glancing at Vaggie before pointing out the door - while Elvia felt Alastor place his hand on her shoulder, guiding her away from the door and back into the hotel. "That bitch is halfway down the street."

"Is she-" Before Vaggie could finish her question Angel confidently replied, raising the almost empty bottle to his mouth as he finished its contents.

"Oh, she's dancin'"

After Charlie left, Vaggie had taken it upon herself to make a new commercial - Elvia was still mad about the lack of gratitude they had for her and Alastors commercial, they had spent days putting it together. Yet she held herself together and agreed to help make the new commercial with Vaggie, pitching in her advice where she saw fit.

Nothing had gone well so far. Between Angel's constant flirting and suggestive tone, then Husk's refusal to learn lines, they couldn't get the scene at the bar. Yet they didn't panic, they still had Niffty - until they realised she had stage fright. Vaggie and her had tried to stay positive, deciding to try to string the footage they got together in hope that it looked good.

After spending an hour they had gotten nothing, the footage they got that morning was crap, and they couldn't make it look presentable - Vaggie even suggested using some of the footage they had gotten from Elvia and Alastor's commercial, until Elvia's sinister grin threw her off. The deer demon needed a break, so she stepped out and lounged around with Angel for a while and eventually Husk even joined them, claiming he only wanted to talk to her - but she caught the way he would listen intently to Angel whenever he spoke and tried his best not to bicker with him - causing a small smile to wahs over her face.

The area around them shifted, slowly transitioning into a set as they stood, confused. Vaggie and Alastor emerged from one of the rooms, his usual large grin plastered on his face, while Vaggie had a small one on hers. With a click of his fingers, the radio demon had changed their outfits, instead of her usual blue dress, Elvia wore a red sun dress with opaque tights, her hair being changed from it's usual curls to being pin straight.

Elvia took quick notice of the shadow creatures holding the camera equipment, as her eyes widened, looking over to Vaggie - before she could question her, Alastor glared at her, her mouth quickly closing as she looked away, her ears drooping. "Alright, everyone! Let's make a fucking commercial."

For the next hour, chaos reigned. Alastor orchestrated every movement with gleeful precision, snapping his fingers to reset scenes, rearrange props, or adjust lighting in an instant. Elvia moved between angles, carefully operating the camera as the shadow creatures handled equipment, lights, and microphones with eerie efficiency.

The smaller deer demon stumbled through her awkward 'scenes,' flailing and mimicking hotel interactions with Vaggie, while Angel provided running commentary, teasing, and sarcastic directions at every opportunity. Husk lounged nearby, half-drunk and half-disinterested, but Elvia noticed him subtly listening to Angel, rolling his eyes or muttering under his breath, which caused a small smile to tug at her lips.

Vaggie also kept a sharp eye on the proceedings, offering occasional corrections and guidance with a small, controlled smile, though she mostly let Alastor run the show. Meanwhile, Niffty zipped around nonstop, fluffing pillows, dusting invisible spots, and arranging props with frantic energy, adding an oddly chaotic but surprisingly effective touch to the set.

By the end, they had a chaotic but strangely energetic reel: awkward demon antics, exaggerated staging, and a manic atmosphere that only Alastor could pull off. It wasn't polished, but it was undeniably striking—and more than enough to grab attention. Now all they had to do was show Charlie.

They had all gathered in a corner of the hotel, Elvia perched on the edge of Alastor's armrest, fingers lightly brushing the polished wood, her gaze fixed on the scattered props but her mind trying to stay focused. The rest of the hotel's chaos seemed to fade around them, leaving a quiet bubble just for the two of them.

"You... make it look effortless," she murmured, her voice low. "I can't decide if I should be impressed or terrified."

Alastor leaned slightly closer, cane resting against his leg, his grin softening just enough to seem private. "Ah, my dear, that's the trick. It is effortless... for those who know where to look." His red eyes glimmered, almost unreadable, yet sharp enough to make her shift slightly.

Elvia glanced at him, ears flicking back. "And you always notice everything... don't you?"

"Observation, intuition... experience," he replied smoothly, the static in his voice quieter here, almost conspiratorial. Then, with a subtle tilt of his head and a knowing glint in his eye, he added, "Some things... some people... have a way of following you, no matter how far you think you've gone."

Elvia stiffened slightly, her gaze dropping to the floor. She didn't ask who he meant—Alastor had a way of speaking that left questions unanswered, leaving you to dwell on the possibilities.

He leaned just a fraction closer, his voice soft but laced with that unnerving amusement only he could manage. "Old debts, old promises... even the faintest whispers from the past have a way of nudging us, my dear. Quite inconvenient, really, isn't it?"

Elvia exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening briefly around the armrest. She didn't respond, simply letting the weight of his words settle. Alastor's grin remained, sharp but controlled, and the hum of the hotel seemed almost to hush in response, giving their private moment an intimate, tense quiet.

"Fear not," he added finally, his voice lowering further. "Whatever comes your way, you're far more capable than you realize... especially with a certain someone keeping an eye on you."

Elvia's ears drooped slightly, and she looked away, unsure what he meant—but the faint, unsettling thrill of tension coursing through her made her heart beat a little faster.

The hum of the hotel crept back in around them, the quiet bubble fading as footsteps echoed down the hall. Elvia stayed perched on the armrest, her hands resting lightly on her knees, still absorbing Alastor's words.

Vaggie appeared first, expression calm but purposeful, followed closely by Charlie, eyes bright with excitement. Elvia straightened slightly, her gaze flicking toward them, but she didn't move from her perch. Alastor straightened as well, stepping back into his usual imposing posture, though his grin remained that same knowing curve from moments ago.

"Alastor pulled some strings, and it's about to air."

His grin grew sinister as he glanced at Elvia, wiggling his eyebrows as he raised a hand to his chest. "I pulled a few limbs too! Hahaha!"

The other members of the hotel stared at him, confused, before their heads snapped towards the smaller deer beside him, her shoulders bouncing as she let out a laugh, her hand raised to her mouth and her eyes closed as she playfully slapped Alastor's arm. "Limbs, huh? Make sure you keep a few for me later."

Alastor's grin sharpened, his eyes narrowing with a glint of wicked amusement. "Ohhh, my dear... such dark appetites, shared so freely with me of all people?" His tone dripped with static, smug and mocking all at once. He leaned just close enough for only her to catch it. "What would your darling husband think, seeing you giggle at my side?"

Elvia froze for half a heartbeat, her ears twitching back before she covered it with a forced smirk. "You're insufferable," she muttered, trying to keep her voice light, but her chest felt tight.

Alastor chuckled, straightening again, his voice louder now, theatrical enough for the rest of the room to hear. "Insufferable, yes—but undeniably entertaining! And, it seems, far more charming than certain... rivals could ever hope to be." His eyes flicked knowingly toward Elvia, grin never faltering.

Elvia turned her gaze away, jaw tightening as her fingers brushed her dress. She forced a small laugh, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. Alastor, of course, noticed—and his grin only grew wider.

Elvia tilted her head, forcing her smirk to hold as she turned back to him. "Careful, Alastor... you talk like that, and people might start thinking you're jealous." Her tone was light, teasing, but her eyes narrowed just enough to let him know she'd caught the jab.

Alastor chuckled, his grin unshaken, static humming like a sly laugh beneath his words. "Jealous? Oh, hardly. Why would I be, when your laughter is already mine for the taking?"

Her ears flicked back, but she leaned in closer, her voice dropping so only he could hear. "Don't get too comfortable. You may enjoy stealing moments, but there are some things you'll never replace."

For just a flicker, his smile hardened, static sharpening around the edges like a crackle of dissonance. But in the next instant, he straightened, broad grin back in place, and announced loudly enough for the room: "Ah, such wit! Isn't she delightful, ladies and gentlemen?"

Between the two deer, there was a razor-thin line—her words a warning, his smile a provocation.

Sensing the tension between the two deer, Charlie finally spoke up. "Wait. The commercial? You all made a new one?" A small smile making it's way onto her face as she looked around, her eyes locking with Angel as he spoke.

"Yeah, one of my better performances, if I do say so myself." He shrugged as he glanced over at Elvia, sparring her a small smile, noticing she was still tensed up from earlier - her ears pressed down against her head - as she gave him a half-smile in return, as they all turned their attention towards the TV infront of them.

"That's... that's amazing." Tears had welled in Charlie's eyes as she held her hands to her chest.

"Shush, it's starting!" Angel roughly reached up and held his hand infront of her face, silencing her as the TV flickered on and the commercial began. But as quickly as it began it was interrupted, the news theme interrupting Vaggie's rehearsed lines as Elvia growled, her sharp teeth on display. While the other members of the hotel yelled, and Alastor simply peered at them all from the corner of his eye.

"Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before. Do you know what that means Tom?" The news reporter spoke in a cheerful tone as she turned towards the other demon beside her.

"No, what does that mean, Katie?"

"It means we are all royally fucked." The news channel quickly transitioned from the reporters to showcasing the chaos that has erupted around Hell - demons were running around screaming. Alastor had perked up from beside Elvia, leaning forward in his seat slightly as he stared at the TV, while Angel raised one of his arms, a frown on his face.

"Wait.. what? Why?!"

A silence eloped them, their attentions drawn to the demons running around, flailing their arms wildly, knocking into one another. The chaos rippled through the streets like a restless tide, as more sinners joined in.

Elvia let out a soft sigh, leaning back slightly. "Looks like tomorrow's going to be... interesting," she murmured, eyes lingering on the disorder. Alastor's grin stretched wider, eyes glinting with barely contained delight as he tapped his cane against the floor. From a distance, the city's chaos continued to hum like static, oblivious to the quieter dramas playing out elsewhere.

Meanwhile, on the other side of Hell, Vox sat in his office, the neon hum of his empire pulsing in rhythm with the sharp edge of his grin. Reports of chaos filled Hell's newsfeeds, but with a flick of his wrist across the controls, the noise died.

One by one, the monitors around him lit up. Not with broadcasts. Not with surveillance feeds. But with her.

Elvia.

He'd uploaded these memories years ago, digitised them so they could never fade, never rot the way human recollection did. And now, at the touch of a button, she filled the room again.

On the center screen, she laughed—bright, unguarded—as she twirled clumsily in their old apartment, skirts brushing her knees, curls bouncing. The memory was so sharp it made his chest ache. He remembered how he'd caught her mid-spin, hands on her waist, pulling her close as she squealed in surprise before burying her face in his shoulder.

Another monitor lit up, showing her perched on their bed, cross-legged, hair tumbling loose as she pretended to read from a magazine like it was Shakespeare. She'd always been dramatic when she wanted to make him laugh. He could still hear himself—Vincent—teasing her, voice low, warm, and hers alone. The laugh she gave in reply still rang in his head, crystal clear.

Vox leaned back in his chair, cigarette dangling from his lips as the memories shifted and spread across the walls. Elvia by the window, sunlight turning her into something untouchable. Elvia swatting his smoke away with that little scowl that never lasted more than a heartbeat. Elvia in his arms at night, whispering his name like a prayer.

For a moment, his grin faltered. His fingers tightened around the glass in his hand, the weight of Vincent's loss clawing up through the armor of Vox. He'd buried this softness decades ago, under neon, static, and empire. But here she was—alive in his memory, untouchable, unreachable.

"You should've been mine forever," he whispered, voice breaking into a low electric crackle. "And you would've been, if the world hadn't cheated us."

The screens looped again, the same smile, the same laugh, over and over. A shrine of her, made of his own recollection, curated until every angle was perfect.

The screens shifted, then froze. Vox stared at the memory waiting to be played, the static hum deep in his chest. He could almost hear it before it began: the sound of sunlight dripping through old curtains, the faint crackle of the stovetop, the quiet rhythm of her laugh.

He pressed play.

The shabby apartment filled his office, projected across half a dozen glowing screens. Vincent stood in the kitchen, tugging at the sleeves of his work shirt while Elvia sat at the crooked little table, sipping from her chipped mug. Her curls spilled around her face, catching the light like fire, and her free hand lingered—without thought—on her stomach.

Vincent leaned against the counter, grinning at her. "You're glowing, y'know that?"

Elvia arched a brow, but a smile tugged at her lips. "Glowing? Please, Vince, you sound like one of those ads in the magazines."

"Maybe," he chuckled, pushing off the counter to steal a piece of toast from her plate. "But I mean it. You look..." He trailed off, softer now, his grin faltering just slightly. "Happy."

She gave him a mock glare, swatting his arm. "I'd be happier if you stopped eating my breakfast." But her eyes softened immediately after. "And if you'd stop worrying about me."

"I'm not worried," he lied, sliding into the chair opposite her. "I've got it handled."

Elvia tilted her head, gaze lingering on him in that way she always did—like she could see straight through the bravado. "Vincent..." Her voice was quiet, but she didn't press further. Instead, she reached across the table, resting her hand over his. "I love you. Always."

The memory of her touch burned hotter than the neon glow around him. Vox swallowed hard, watching his past self bend forward to kiss her knuckles, hiding the crack in his smile.

"I'll fix it," Vincent had whispered, more to himself than her. "I'll fix everything. You won't have to worry, not about money, not about this place..." He glanced at her stomach, fleeting but filled with something unspoken. "...not about anything."

She caught it, of course. She always did. Her cheeks flushed, but she laughed—a warm, hopeful sound that filled the tiny apartment. "Then go," she teased, shooing him with her free hand. "Before you're late again. And don't come home empty-handed, Mr. Big Plans."

Vincent leaned down, pressing one last kiss against her temple. The scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin, the way she smiled up at him—it all carved itself into his memory, whether he wanted it or not.

And then he left.

The screens froze on that image: Elvia at the table, sunlight painting her in gold, smiling as if nothing could touch them.

In his office, Vox's glass shattered in his fist, blood dripping between his knuckles. His grin spread wide, sharp and electric, static eating at the edges of his voice.

"You trusted me," he hissed at her frozen image. "And I let you die." His head tilted, neon glow casting him in sharp lines. "But I won't let anyone else take you. Not him. Not ever."

Vox's grin sharpened once more. "Doesn't matter where you are, Via. Doesn't matter who you're with." His tone hardened, venom seeping back in, arrogance sealing over the hurt. "You'll never outrun me. Not forever."

The screens filled with different images of her face again, smiling, radiant, frozen in time. And as the neon hum deepened around him, Vincent slipped away, leaving only Vox—grinning wide, alone in a room full of memories he refused to let die.

Chapter Text

The night had been rough, tension rising throughout the hotel due to the sudden change of date for the extermination. The air itself felt heavier, each resident carrying the weight in their own way. Charlie busied herself with plans that bordered on frantic, Vaggie hovered close with a sharp edge to her words, and Husk had drowned himself deeper into bottles. Even Niffty's cleaning frenzy had lost it's cheerful rhythm.

Alastor and Elvia had avoided each other for the most part. His grin lingered at the edge of every room, a reminder she didn't want to face, while her own patience wore thinner with every exchange. Instead, she had decided to spend her time with Angel Dust. The spider demon was crude, reckless, impossible to ignore — but he was also distracting. With Angel, she could laugh, roll her eyes, or just let the noise drown out the static crawling at the edges of her mind.

But when the night settled and the hotel grew quiet, distraction no longer worked.

Sleep came fitfully, and with it, memories she didn't choose.

She was a teenager again, tucked into the corner booth of the little diner on Main Street. The cracked red vinyl squeaked under her, and the table rocked every time she set her malt glass down too hard. Outside, the neon "EATS" sign buzzed faintly, spilling pale light across the rain-slicked street. Glenn Miller's horns floated from the jukebox, weaving through the hum of conversation and the clink of cutlery.

Vincent sat across from her, and she noticed immediately the contrast between them. He wasn't polished like the men she saw at her father's estate or the country club. His sleeves were rolled up, frayed at the elbows; his jacket had patches at the seams, and the tie knotted unevenly around his neck had been hastily straightened one too many times. He tried to appear confident, but she could see the small signs of doubt — a tightened jaw, a twitch at the corner of his mouth, the way he kept adjusting his posture like he wasn't quite sure how to sit properly across from her.

He sipped his coffee, grimacing faintly, then nudged the sugar jar toward her. "You'll want that. First sip might... uh, scare you off." He shot her a lopsided grin, but his hand trembled slightly as he pushed the jar.

She giggled nervously, fingers curling around her chocolate malt. "I don't think it's that strong," she said, stirring too quickly and splashing the rim.

Vincent leaned back, running a hand through his hair, visibly self-conscious. "Oh, you'll see. I like a girl who can handle a little bite." His wink was accompanied by a small, almost apologetic shrug, as if he feared he wasn't pulling it off.

Her cheeks flared. "I'm not..."

"You are," he cut in quickly, leaning forward again. "But I mean... it's cute. I like it. Makes you... fun. Easier for me to talk to you." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away for a moment as if hoping she hadn't noticed the uncertainty flicker across his face.

"You don't have to act all proper with me, you know," she said softly, meeting his gaze. "It's just a diner. Not... not one of my father's parties."

He swallowed, blinking rapidly. "I know that. I just... I don't want to seem..." He faltered, searching for the right words. "...like a fool in front of you."

Her heart twisted a little. She studied him, noticing the quick, nervous movements, the way he tugged at his cuffs and smoothed the patch on his jacket more than once. There was charm there, yes, but also... worry. Concern that he wasn't enough for her world. The thought made her chest ache with something protective she didn't yet know how to name.

"You're not a fool," she said gently.

He gave her a nervous smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Maybe not. But I've had to fight for every inch I've got. You... you've had everything handed to you. Makes a guy like me..." He trailed off, fidgeting with the napkin. "...feel small sometimes."

She smiled, leaning forward slightly. "You're not small."

"I try not to be," he muttered, grin returning but faltering at the edges. Then, recovering quickly, he teased, "But seriously, I bet girls like you don't usually sit with guys like me at a corner booth. Usually it's silver spoons and dancing lessons."

"I - maybe I just wanted to," she said, her voice quiet but firm, "to see what it's like."

He leaned closer, brushing a curl from her cheek. His hand lingered a moment too long, then he pulled back, worried he'd overstepped. "Careful... you're making me blush." His grin faltered again, and he swallowed audibly.

She froze, heart hammering. "You - what?"

He laughed, nervously, too loudly. "Don't look so shocked. You've got a way of catching people off guard." Then he paused, biting his lip before continuing, "Makes a guy like me... think I can't keep up, y'know?"

She studied him carefully, noticing the small hesitations: how his voice wavered when he complimented her, the way he glanced at the diner doorway like he expected someone to judge him, the nervous shift of his weight on the seat. Somehow, the vulnerability made him more appealing, more real. She wanted to protect that, to reassure him without knowing how.

For the next hour, he talked - about work, about selling cars on slow days, about customers who tried to haggle tires down to nothing. He joked, teased, leaned forward at odd moments, and sometimes faltered mid-sentence, unsure if he was funny enough or clever enough for her. He made small bets with her - "If I can make the guy at the counter laugh, you owe me a fry" - and winked when he succeeded. She laughed, and he visibly relaxed, brushing his hand across his forehead, embarrassed by how easily her laughter set him at ease.

At one point, she caught him staring at the tip jar with a guilty look. "Don't worry about it," she said softly. "You're doing fine."

He gave a half-grin, half-sigh, and muttered, "I just... I don't want you thinking I'm... nothing. Or—" He trailed off, embarrassed. "You know, like... beneath you."

"You're not beneath me," she said firmly, but gently, placing a hand over his. The gesture made him stiffen, then slowly relax, a small smile creeping across his face. She felt a warmth in her chest — a mix of pride, protection, and something dangerously like affection.

It felt like the start of something enormous. Something hers.

Then the jukebox faltered, Glenn Miller's melody cracking into static. Vincent's laughter splintered with it, the warmth of the diner dissolving into white noise.

Elvia jolted awake, hand flying to the chain around her neck, clutching the ring until the metal bit into her palm. The hotel walls loomed cold and unfamiliar, Angel's laughter echoing down the hall.

Yet the memory clung to her: the crooked tie, the patched jacket, the playful teasing, the nervous charm, and the flicker of insecurity beneath the grin. She remembered noticing it, understanding in some small, young way that he tried so hard, and feeling protective, charmed, and, somehow, heartbroken all at once.

She exhaled slowly, letting herself sink back against the pillow, the warmth of that long-ago evening lingering uncomfortably in her chest. Fourteen, Vincent, diner booths, nervously crooked ties... it all felt impossibly distant, yet achingly vivid.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Miss Elvia?" Alastor's voice, smooth and deliberate, carried through the wood.

She stiffened slightly, fingers brushing the chain around her neck. "Yes?" Her tone was polite but tense.

"May I enter?" His grin was already present in her mind, sharp and unyielding even before the door swung open.

Reluctantly, she swung her legs off the bed, smoothing the folds of her dress. "I suppose so," she said carefully, keeping her voice measured.

Alastor entered, cane in hand. "Splendid! I promise I shan't bite... unless requested." His static-tinged laugh danced faintly in the quiet room.

She forced a polite smile, ears flicking back nervously. "I'll hold you to that."

"Excellent," he said, stepping further into the room as he gestured towards the door. "Fresh air awaits, my dear. A little reprieve from yesterday's... exuberance. And perhaps, a bit of conversation — nothing overly dreadful, I assure you."

Elvia followed him into the hallway until they reached the balcony, he held the door open for her with his usual grin. She slowly walked through the door way, glancing back towards Alastor to see if he was following, once she saw he was close behind her, she continued further onto the balcony, cautious but curious, her gaze flickered from him down to the streets below. The neon buzz of Hell glimmered against puddles, the usual chaos unfolding like a symphony.

"Well," she said carefully, arms crossed, ears twitching, "what did you want to discuss?"

Alastor gestured to a small table tucked into the corner of the balcony, two mismatched chairs waiting. "Shall we?" he said smoothly.

She hesitated a fraction, then lowered herself into the chair, keeping her posture straight, polite, and careful. "I suppose so," she murmured.

Alastor perched opposite her, leaning casually on the table with one elbow, then pushed a tray forward. Two mugs of steaming, dark liquid — thick and slightly bitter — sat waiting. "Ah, a touch of the morning's warmth," he said, his grin impossibly wide. "One must fuel oneself before adventuring into the less... savory districts of our fair city."

Elvia accepted the mug, fingers brushing the ceramic, and inhaled the sharp, earthy scent. "Thank you," she said, voice careful but polite, still tense.

Alastor's gaze flicked to her, sharp and calculating. "You seem tense, my dear. But worry not — this shall be remedied with a little... excursion. I was thinking, perhaps, a trip to Cannibal Town later. Naturally, your company would be most... desirable."

Elvia's ears pricked at the suggestion, and despite the careful tension in her posture, her eyes lit with genuine excitement. "Cannibal Town... with you? I'd... I'd like that. Very much," she admitted, voice polite but threaded with anticipation.

Alastor's grin sharpened, teeth flashing in the morning light, static humming faintly at the edges of his voice. "Splendid! I knew it would entice you. After all, one does recognize a kindred spirit when presented with the... finer pleasures of our existence."

Elvia shifted slightly, still tense but a faint spark of eagerness threading through her composure.

"Ah," Alastor continued smoothly, leaning closer, a teasing glint in his red eyes. "And now that you've agreed... I must ask — how would your darling husband feel, knowing you're embarking on such a... delectable adventure?"

Elvia stiffened, fingers tightening around her mug, ears flicking back. "I... don't know what you mean," she said carefully, still attempting to be polite but her tone harsh - a warning for him to back off.

He chuckled, static crackling faintly like soft laughter. "Oh, my dear, only that memories have a way of clinging. Names, faces... promises made, perhaps broken. Quite fascinating, really, how the past persists — even when safely tucked away."

Elvia's stomach tightened, but she kept her posture straight, forcing her voice to steady as she glared at him, a slight growl to her words as her teeth bore. "I... suppose it does. But I'm not concerned with it now."

"Splendid," Alastor said, leaning back with a satisfied hum. "Then let us focus on the present — and our excursion. Cannibal Town awaits, and I dare say it shall prove most... entertaining indeed."

Elvia exhaled softly, still tense but unable to hide the flicker of excitement that danced in her eyes. Beneath the teasing, beneath the unnerving familiarity, her pulse quickened at the thought of the dark, thrilling adventure ahead — and at the strange, unspoken bond she shared with Alastor over their macabre inclinations.

They had spent the last twenty minutes talking, their words weaving between playful taunts and sharper confessions, an odd camaraderie settling between them like smoke. The quiet in the hotel felt deceptive, the kind of calm that prickled at the edges, waiting to snap. 

And it did. 

A loud explosion rang out from below, Elvia's ears snapped up as she clamoured out of her chair and looked down, there was now a large hole in the wall. Peering behind her she spared a look towards Alastor, though he remained unbothered, raising his mug to his lips as he took a sip, his eyes locked on to something in the distance. Her head snapped towards the new voice - a familiar one - as she stared at the blimp coming towards them. 

"Show yourself, Alastor! Come and face--" The snake demon paused for a moment, looking down towards the hole he had created, tilting his head in confusion before glancing up - the two deer demons staring back at him. "Oh, there you are.. along with your little doe-eyed companion!" 

Elvia's brows furrowed as her ears fell back, she could hear Alastor's chuckle from behind her as a scowl made it's way onto her face. The snake demon continued, choosing to ignore - or just outright oblivious - to the harsh glare he was receiving from the smaller deer. "Face my wrath!" 

Alastor glanced at Elvia for a moment, taking note of the low growl she was letting out, before taking another quick sip from his mug and turning towards the snake, his tone teasing as his grin turned coy. "Who are you?" 

The snake demon faltered, as his expression dropped, leaning forward he glared at Alastor, before turning his attention to Elvia. "Who am I? Who am I? You know who I am, don't you, little fawn?" 

Her expression darkened as she stared back at him, her small tail lashing wildly behind her as she let out another growl - louder this time. "Call me that again, see where it gets you. Can't say I've ever seen you around, and trust me, I'd remember. So do us all a favour and trim that ego down."

He hesitated for a moment, his expression dropped before he quickly pulled himself together, attempting to keep his tone confident. "I am the great Sir Pentious! Inventor, architect of destruction," Alastor stood, making brisk steps towards Elvia as he placed a hand on her shoulder, then without warning turned them both into shadows as he took them down towards the other demons that had gathered at the front of the hotel. Once they were beside the other members of the hotel, she abruptly turned towards him, slapping his arm harshly as she glared at him - receiving a sly grin in return- before turning her attention towards the snake again. "villan extraordinaire!" 

Elvia hadn't noticed Niffty until she felt someone tugging at her dress, slowly climbing it until she settled near her head, staring at the blimp in awe as she spoke. "Ooh, he's a bad boy." The deer's eyes widened as she turned towards Niffty, slowly shaking her head as she made sure she was safely holding onto her dress. The taller deer beside them glanced at them, as he reached over and tugged Niffty off Elvia, placing her on the ground as he gestured towards the smaller deer. 

"Huh, well if all that were true, you'd think we'd have heard of you." 

Sir pentious paused, tilting his head as he stared at the two deers - dumbfounded. "I attacked you literally last week." Alastor glanced at Elvia, she glanced back at him as the two tilted their heads in confusion. This only seemed to anger the snake more as his voice grew louder. "We've done battle, like... twenty times." 

The other members of the hotel stared at the two as Elvia let out a small chuckle, and Alastor shrugged, his tone sarcastic. "Well, you must have been really bad at this." 

The snakes brows furrowed as he gripped the levers on his control panel, leaning forward as he spoke. "Silence! Now cower! For when I've slain you two, the almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me as their equal!" 

Elvia's head tilted in confusion slightly as her ear twitched, turning to Alastor she glanced at him expectantly. "Who are the Vees?" His grin grew sinister as he peered over at her, his tone teasing as he waved his hand. 

"Oh, nobody important." 

In the blink of an eye Alastor had summoned his tentacles again, as they harshly grabbed onto the blimp and began waving it around. Alastor couldn't help but chuckle, while Elvia stood beside him, staring in awe at the destruction before her with a large grin on her face, while Sir Pentious' screams echoed from inside the blimp. 

"Arrgh, Oh! Please! Stop!" 

The two deers ignored the wide eyed stares from behind them as Elvia slowly giggled now, while Charlie stepped up towards them, her voice slightly concerned. "Um, Alastor? I think he's had enough." 

From the other side of her, Angel put his hand on her shoulder as he peered past, a slight grin on his face as he spoke."Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im!" Alastor had taken this as an opportunity to tip the blimp, forcing the snake to fall out of a hole in the glass and land abruptly before them facedown. 

The radio demon kept his voice blank as he waved his cane around, sparing glances towards Elvia. "Thanks for another forgettable experience." 

Elvia had taken this as an opportunity to step closer to the snake, standing right beside Alastor now as she stared down at him, a sinister grin on her face. Sir Pentious slowly raised his hand as he peeled himself from the ground, his voice small. "Thank... you.. for letting your guard down!" His tail suddenly rushed forward, tearing a small piece of Elvia's dress off, before tearing a small piece of Alastor's coat, as he pulled it back to stare proudly at the fabric, before looking up - his expression falling. "Haha! Yah! Oh, shit." 

Alastor had changed, shifting into his larger form as his antlers grew and his eyes turned dark, while Elvia crossed her arms as she stared down at her dress, frowning. Another large explosion rang out from around them, this time Alastor had blasted Sir Pentious half way across Hell, as he slowly shifted back into his usual look and stared off into the distance, proud. Elvia's sullen sigh pulled him from his thoughts as he turned around, eyes darting straight to her. The small deer held the bottom of her dress as she traced where it had been ripped, Alastor's chirpy voice making her look up. 

"Well, it looks as though we need a visit to the tailor. A shame, really — such a lovely dress meeting such a cruel fate. But chin up, little doe! We'll have you mended and marvelous again in no time. Best of luck, chums." Without another thought Elvia quickly rushed to catch up with him, her begs for him to slow down falling on deaf ears, before he abruptly stopped - Vaggie's question making him pause. 

"Wait. You're leaving? Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." Taking this as her chance, Elvia quickly stopped beside him, clasping her arm with his as she stared back at the members of the hotel, Angel shooting her a teasing look as he gestured to the hole in the wall behind him. 

"We need a wall." 

Alastor quickly pulled Elvia closer to his side, flashing her a teasing grin before adressing the other members of the hotel. "Of course. Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?" Without a snap of his fingers, the familiar shadow creatures appeared and he turned on his heel, pulling Elvia along with him as he made the occasional joke, causing her to playfully slap his arm as she held a hand to her mouth, trying to drown out her giggles. 

Unbeknownst to them, across Hell, Vox had been watching their every move. The screen in Valentino's apartment flickered with activity from the hotel, and the first thing that drew his attention was Alastor — the Radio Demon, preening and striding through the wreckage with that insufferable grin. Vox's antennas twitched, static crackling as irritation flared. What is that fiend doing now?

Then, almost involuntarily, his gaze shifted and he felt his heart stop. Beside Alastor was a smaller deer, the same blue dress she used to wear made his breath hitch as her black curls bounced around her face as she turned to look up at the demon beside her, flashing Alastor the same smile she used to flash him as he felt his world collapse. Elvia. Was alive. Here. In Hell. And moving beside that... that monster. His circuits sparked with disbelief, his sharp claws digging further into the table as memories of her — her laughter, her warmth, the quiet promise of the life they once shared — surged painfully to the surface.

"What are.. you doing here, Via?," Vox hissed, voice low enough for Valentino not to hear, buzzing with a mixture of shock and fury. She should be in Heaven, not here, not in this infernal pit with beings like him. Not with that demon.

Static hissed across the monitors as his antennas twitched violently. Every instinct screamed at him: find her, pull her away, fix this. And yet, the sight of her, unaware of his presence, walking through Hell as if it were no more than a street in some distant city, tore at him with a bitter ache he couldn't reconcile with his anger.

"Via..." he muttered, barely above a whisper, the single word a mixture of disbelief, heartbreak, and barely restrained rage. Alive. Here. And unreachable.

Valentino had been too engrossed in watching Angel Dust that he hadn't noticed Vox's static growing louder as he stared at the screens. He harshly jabbed at the screen as he growled. "See? Look at how he flirts with that guy, and he's not even paying! Who is that? I'm gonna fucking kill his whole fucking family!" Pushing himself off the table, he finally caught glances of Vox, taking note at the way his claws were dug into the table - gripping it as if it were keeping him upright, while he stared at the screens infront of him, motionless, the static growing louder by the second. "Vox? Vox?" The moth harshly slammed his fist onto the desk, pulling the TV demon from his trance as a scowl grew on his face. 

"That fucker is back!" 

Valentino's smirk grew as he glanced at the screens - now noticing the smaller deer walking beside Alastor, his confusion growing. "Yeah, I thought he was gone for good too. Coming back now, with a pretty little fawn at his side?" He noticed the way Vox's screen glitched at the mention of the smaller demon, a look of confusion washing over him as he tilted his head slightly as he studied Vox. 

The TV demon turned harshly as he clenched his fists - refusing to look at the sight before him any further, as he let out a low growl at Valentino, shooting him a threatening glance before sighing. "It's been seven years!" 

The moth demon wasted no time, curtly walking over to Vox as he knelt down, his tone teasing as he smirked at him. "You still pissed he almost beat you that time?" He reached out and grabbed the edge of his screen, pinching it between his fingers as he pouted. 

Vox immediately slapped his hand away, glaring at Valentino as his voice grew deeper, threatening. "Uh, fuck you." 

He smirked as he slowly walked behind Vox, his arms crossed as he grinned down at him, trying to keep his voice light as he occasionally glanced at the screens behind him - swearing he had seen the smaller deer before and desperately trying to figure out where. "Just saying." Vox's frown grew as his brows furrowed, slowly raising his hand as he pointed at Valentino.

"Things have changed a lot since he left town." The TV's signature smirk returning once he finished as he slowly started walking away from the moth, not noticing the way he had began to intently study the small deer on the screens. 

Valentino kept his tone light as he stared at her, the curls feeling familiar as he slowly inspected the blue dress, as he murmured a halfhearted response to the TV behind him. "That's for sure." 

Vox continued walking, his grin wide as his mind raced - his emotions conflicted - but he kept his facade. "I got to send a message of who's really in charge of things now!" 

The tailor's bell gave a weak chime as Alastor held the door open, ushering Elvia inside with a theatrical bow. The shop smelled of fabric dye and mothballs, bolts of cloth stacked high on shelves, thread spools glittering in the dim light. The demon tailor — a squat, four-eyed creature with too many hands — immediately flurried over, clucking at the ripped dress and tattered coat with delight at the challenge.

"Such fine fabric, such dreadful abuse! Shameful, shameful!" it chittered, already tugging the garments from their frames.

Alastor leaned against the counter, cane tapping a light rhythm as he grinned at Elvia. "See, my dear? No catastrophe too great to mend. Why, one might even say this little... tear..." he gestured lazily to her skirt's ruined hem, "...has become a blessing in disguise. Fresh thread, new charm!"

Elvia raised a brow, arms folded, though the corner of her mouth betrayed the faintest twitch of amusement. "You find disaster amusing, don't you?"

"Only when it dresses well!" Alastor's laugh buzzed with static, bouncing off the tailor's walls.

She sighed, rolling her eyes as the tailor pinned the fabric carefully around her. For a moment, the world was quiet — just the hum of needles and the occasional chuckle from Alastor, his gaze fixed on her with unsettling familiarity.

When the last stitch was tied and the last button straightened, Elvia smoothed the repaired fabric with her palms. "Thank you," she said politely, though she refused to meet Alastor's eyes for more than a heartbeat.

"Splendid!" Alastor tipped an imaginary hat to the tailor, dropping coins onto the counter that seemed to multiply as they fell. "And now, my dear, the day awaits!"

They stepped out into the street together. The neon glow bathed the puddles in harsh colors, and for a moment Elvia tilted her head skyward, lips pressed tight. She looked like she was searching for something that wasn't there — a crack in the crimson sky, perhaps, or a memory.

But the moment shattered with a burst of static.

Infront of them a crowd of demons had formed, staring at the TV screens, fascinated as it changed from one scene to another, the same demon parading around on the screens, before settling on a cooking show, his voice steady as he sang. Elvia's gaze wandered over, attempting to catch sight past the other demons, while Alastor's grin grew from behind her. 

"While he hid in radio, we pivoted to video. And now his medium, is getting bloody rare!" 

More demons joined the crowd, faces lit up by the bright screens, as they glanced between one another - some cheered, some muttered to themselves. 

Elvia froze in place, heart hammering as her breath caught in her throat. That voice — deeper now, distorted by static — but familiar. Too familiar. She pressed a hand to her chest, fingers curling around the chain that held Vincent's ring.

Alastor's grin sharpened as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, savoring the way her ears flicked back against her head, her lips parting with recognition she couldn't place. He hummed softly, tapping his cane against the cobblestone.

Elvia stood rooted to the spot, trembling faintly, her breath shallow. Her eyes stayed fixed on the screen, staring into the eyes of the demon before her, whispering a single word under her breath — so soft Alastor nearly missed it.

"...Vincent?"

Alastor's chuckle rose, dark and honey-smooth, curling at the edges with static. "My, my... how curious. Come along, dear." He walked up to her slowly, lacing their arms as he began to pull her along, much to her dismay. 

Elvia didn't move at first. Her knees felt locked, her gaze pinned to the screen even after it dissolved into static. Her lips trembled, her chest tightening as the word she'd dared to speak — Vincent — echoed in her mind like a curse.

Alastor's arm slid against hers, his grin unshaken, his tone all mockery veiled in charm. "Yes, yes, let's not stand gawking like some poor doe caught in headlights, hm?" He tugged gently, but with a force that brooked no refusal. "The streets are no place for unraveling epiphanies."

She flinched at his touch, but her body followed, caught between numbness and fear. "That voice... it sounded like—"

"Shhh," Alastor crooned, static buzzing faintly with the sound. "Speculation is such a dangerous habit, my dear. Best not to let hope run away with you."

Her head snapped toward him, anger flickering in her eyes, her ears flat against her head. "You heard it too! You—"

He stopped suddenly, cane tapping the pavement as he bent ever so slightly, meeting her gaze with those wide, unblinking crimson eyes. His smile never faltered. "I hear everything, Elvia. Every crackle, every frequency. And I choose which ones to answer." He straightened, tightening his grip on her arm as he steered her firmly toward the hotel's looming silhouette. "Now. No more questions."

By the time they crossed the threshold of the Hazbin Hotel, her resistance had dulled into silent trembling. Alastor led her past the lobby — past Charlie's worried glance, past Husk's drunken scowl, past Angel's curious grin — without a single word of explanation. His presence was enough to silence them all.

Elvia tried to pull back when he guided her toward the tower staircase, her heels scraping against the wood. "Alastor—wait, I don't—why are we—"

He chuckled, the sound sharp, cutting. "You wanted answers, didn't you? Or at least... to be closer to them." His grin widened as static hummed around them, carrying faint whispers of radio chatter like a phantom chorus. "Well then, darling, consider yourself invited backstage."

The door creaked open into his tower. Screens lined the walls, some flickering with distorted newsreels, others filled with nothing but static snow. Microphones stood at attention like sentinels, wires coiled across the floor like snakes. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and faintly of blood.

Alastor guided her into a chair with a flourish, cane resting against his shoulder. "There. A front-row seat. I daresay you won't want to miss the next broadcast."

Elvia sat rigid, her fingers clutching the ring at her chest as her eyes darted nervously across the screens. One flickered, catching her breath — Vox's smirk filled the glass, the very same one she had just seen on the streets.

Her chest ached, her pulse racing. "That's... it can't be him. He's—" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "He's supposed to be in Heaven."

Alastor leaned over her shoulder, his grin inches from her ear, voice low and dripping with delight. "Oh, my dear... Heaven is dreadfully overrated." His laughter buzzed in the static as he straightened, twirling his cane. "Stay. Watch. You'll find the truth is always stranger than the stories we tell ourselves."

And as the screens lit up once again with Vox's furious broadcast, Elvia sat frozen in the heart of Alastor's tower, her breath caught between disbelief and dawning horror.

The stage was set.

The Radio Demon and the Overlord of the Airwaves would clash.

And she would be there — forced to witness every second of it.

Vox went into that fight already charged up, furious and raw after seeing Elvia again. Valentino's taunts had only sharpened the blade. When Alastor appeared on stage in the middle of his broadcast, stealing the spotlight with that smug grin, it was the final insult.

The song began as a battle of dominance — Vox with his neon screens, his power over Hell's attention, screaming into every frequency: You're nothing but old noise, I own this city now. But underneath his anger was panic. He had something to prove, not just to Alastor, not just to Hell, but to himself — and to her. Elvia. If she was really here, if she saw him like this, then he couldn't afford to look weak.

Every verse, every blast of static, every glitching howl — it was Vox clawing desperately at the control he thought was his birthright. And every time Alastor laughed it off, twisting the rhythm, stealing the tempo, it cut deeper.

By the climax, Vox wasn't just fighting Alastor anymore. He was trying to scream over the memory of Elvia's voice — that whisper, Vincent? — bleeding into the edges of his circuits.

And then came the blackout.

He poured everything into it. The surge was wild, uncalculated — all of Hell's power grids hiccupped, lights flickering and dying until the city was plunged into darkness. For a single moment, Vox had lost control. Just silence, screens blackened, him and the static alone. 

But when the power crackled back, he saw it.

Not just Alastor's shadowy silhouette — but a figure behind him. Smaller, delicate, frozen in place.

Elvia.

Her pale face, wide eyes, hands clutched at her chest. The ring glinted faintly in the flicker of the screenlight.

It was like being struck by lightning from the inside. Vox's glitching frame spasmed, static shrieking as his chest caved with the sight. She's in his tower. With him. Watching.

His broadcast wavered, his voice fracturing. "No... no, no, no—"

Alastor's laughter thundered through the speakers, that terrible, endless grin devouring the frame. But Vox wasn't looking at him anymore. He couldn't. His focus was locked on her — Elvia — sitting in the Radio Demon's den, trapped in his web.

And all the anger, the bravado, the noise of the fight melted into a single jagged truth that Vox could barely hold together:

He hadn't stayed gone.

And neither had she.

Chapter Text

The static fades from the walls, leaving an electric silence, the air was tense from the broadcast. Elvia's heart was hammering in her chest, her mind racing through memories that don't fit anymore — laughter, warm hands, a wedding ring, the smell of rain on asphalt — and that same voice, now distorted, calling her name through a screen. She turned toward Alastor, her eyes wide as her brows furrowed, figure trembling as her voice remained quiet. 

"You knew."

Alastor looked up from his tuning dial, his smile effortless as it slowly grew and he gently leaned back in his seat, his grip on his cane loosening as he tried to remain coy. "Hmm?"

Elvia's voice echoed off the walls of the radio tower as she yelled, her ears falling flat against her head as she let out a low growl. "You knew he was alive — that Vincent was down here all this time."

His grin widened, as a flicker of crimson light shone in his eyes, as he shrugged. "Ah, yes. Vox. Charming fellow, in a mechanical sort of way. Quite the temper, though."

"Don't—" she snaps, taking a step towards him as she clenched her fist. "Don't call him that. You knew he was my husband."

That seemed to catch his attention as his grin faltered for a moment — then returned, wider this time, richer. "Well, well. You do remember, then."

Her stomach twists as her mind raced.

"You knew. All this time. And you said nothing."

He shruged again lightly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world - which only made Elvia's anger grow as she took another step towards Alastor, her growling growing louder. 

"Why spoil the surprise? After all, my dear, sentimentality in Hell is such a rare delicacy. And besides..."

He slowly raised from his seat and stepped towards her, closing the remaining gap between them, the air tightening with the faint hum of static. "You wouldn't have listened to me before. Not until you saw it for yourself."

"You wanted me to see that?" she spits. "You let me think he was gone, went up to heaven — you let me grieve him — just to make some twisted point?"

He let out a chuckle, low and musical as his grin grew, his brows raised in a teasing manner.  "Oh, not a point, sweetheart. A deal." She faltered for a moment - freezing up as she let his words sink in, her eyes narrowing, her voice quieter this time. 

"What kind of deal?"

"A simple one." He leaned down, voice dropping into a velvet murmur as he stared into her soul. "You stay by my side — safe, protected, useful — and in return, I keep you out of his hands."

She stared blankly at him, unable to breathe for a moment before letting out a scoff, raising an eyebrow.  "Out of his hands?"

"Oh, make no mistake, dear." His smile sharpened, his fangs on display now - glimmering against the light. "Now that he's seen you, he'll come for you. He's already plotting it, crawling through his circuits like a virus. And when he does..." He traces a finger through the air, static curling like smoke. "You'll be glad we made a deal."

Her anger cracks through the fear as she squinted her eyes at him - disbelief washing over her.

"You think you can use me as some kind of bargaining chip?"

"I prefer the term anchor," he says pleasantly. "Something to keep our dear Vox, oh silly me, Vincent, grounded — perhaps even desperate. And desperation makes such delightful music."

She shook her head, taking a step backwards as she slowly backed away, eyes glistening with tears as her voice cracked.

"You're a monster."

"Naturally." His grin never wavered as he kept his tone teasing. "But at least I'm an honest one."

He straightened, tone returning to bright politeness as he walked towards the stairs beside her, turning his head in her direction as he spoke - keeping his eyes on her, gauging her reaction. 

"Now, come along, dear. We shouldn't keep the others waiting. Charlie gets so anxious when guests vanish without reason."

She refused to move. He took this as an opportunity to offer his arm, as if nothing happened between them. After a long pause, she let out a scoff as she shook her head - her ears tight against her head - and promptly walked past him without taking it.

His smile lingered — thinner now, calculating.

The sound of their footsteps echoed down the narrow staircase, the static hum of Alastor's power still whispering faintly through the air. Elvia kept her eyes forward, jaw tight, every muscle trembling from the argument that still burned in her chest.

Alastor followed just behind her — composed as ever, his cane tapping rhythmically against the steps like a metronome. He didn't seem the least bit bothered by the venom radiating off her - if anything, he seemed amused by it.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It grated at her ears until she finally stopped mid-step - her hooves on different stairs - as she spun around to glare at him.

"You knew we were married, Alastor."

He paused a few steps higher, leaning lightly on his cane - his usual grin evident on his face as he stared blankly at her - his tone void of emotion.

"Indeed I did."

Her expression darkened, ears twitching as her brows furrowed deeper, her jaw tight. "And you said nothing. You watched me tear myself apart for decades — decades — thinking he was gone."

His grin widened ever so slightly as he shrugged, glancing at her teasingly. "You're giving me far too much credit, my dear. I didn't make you grieve. I merely let nature take its course."

"Nature? Nature?!" she hissed, her eyes blown wide as she took a step towards him, climbing the stairs as she felt her anger grow. "You mean cruelty."

He chuckled softly, the sound bouncing off the stairwell walls like a radio tune as he took a step towards her - mimicking her previous action as he glared down at her. 

"Cruelty, compassion... such funny little mortal words. Down here, they all sound the same in the end."

She took a slow breath, her tail twitching in irritation as she clenched her fists - if she wasn't raised better she would have lunged at him - but dhe refrained herself, her mind racing as she let out a sigh. 

"I stayed faithful to him. All this time. Since the day I fell here, I never—" Her voice cracked as she spoke. Elvia swallowed hard, forcing her voice steady as she glared at him, her voice still wavering as she felt tears returning in her eyes. "I never stopped believing he was still out there. Somewhere. And you—" she took another step toward him, trembling with restrained fury, "—you took that from me. You made me think I was crazy for holding on."

For the first time, Alastor's grin faltered. Just slightly — a blink of irritation, or maybe something more, the smaller deer couldn't tell - quickly smoothed over as soon as she noticed. 

"Oh, Elvia, you wound me! I didn't take your faith. I merely... redirected it. You've survived remarkably well without him. If anything, you should thank me."

Elvia stiffened, her eyes widening as a smile grew on her face, her tone sarcastic. "Thank you?" she repeated, laughing bitterly at him. "You don't get to twist this into a favor. You kept his existence from me so you could use me. You made me believe that he was in heaven, that I would never see him again."

Alastor descended the next few steps until he was beside her. His tone softened — mockingly gentle, the voice of someone who wanted to sound sympathetic but couldn't hide the pleasure in it.

"I'm not your enemy, dear. I simply deal in truth — the kind most souls can't handle. You, however..." he looked her over, eyes glinting red, "...you're fascinating, intriguing almost when you're angry."

She recoiled slightly, disgust curling her lip as she scoffed, rolling her eyes at him.

"You're vile."

"Perhaps. But at least I'm not pretending to be righteous." He began walking again, unconcerned, and she had no choice but to follow if she wanted to leave the tower - to leave the unpleasant memories that have been plaguing her mind behind.

When they reached the last landing, the faint light of the hotel lobby spilled upward — warm, golden, almost painfully bright after the gloom of the tower. Charlie's laughter drifted from below, sweet and oblivious.

Elvia slowed, staring down through the railings, her fingers curling around the banister until her knuckles went pale. "You could've told me," she said quietly. "After everything I've done for this hotel — for you — you could've just told me."

Alastor didn't answer at first. Then, softly, he replied. 

"If I had, you wouldn't be here now."

That stopped her cold.

He smiled over his shoulder — that same terrible, charming smile as he slowly made his way over to the stairs leading to the lobby. "You'd have run straight into his arms, and I'd have lost something... quite interesting." He reached the landing of the stairs, cane tapping once against the carpet beneath him. "Come along, dear. Let's not keep the others waiting."

Elvia lingered for a long moment before following — her gaze distant and her heart heavy as she registered his words, knowing if she could, she would have ran out of here by now and tried to have found Vincent by herself.

Elvia climbed down the stairs a few paces behind Alastor, his words echoing in her mind as her thoughts raced. Torn between if there had actually been meaning behind them, or if it was another tactic for him to get under her skin, to manipulate her and have her follow him without question - as always. 

Her head snapped up when she reached the final step, making eye contact with Charlie as she was waving her hands around enthusiastically, motioning towards her and Alastor. Elvia refused to look at him — but she could feel his gaze on her, sharp and smug from the corner of her eye.

"And over here we have—oh! Uh, Alastor, our gracious Facility Manager!"

Charlie's voice carried that chipper energy she always tried to fill the room with, though it wavered slightly as her eyes darted between them. She cleared her throat and turned quickly toward Elvia, her grin widening into something softer, warmer.

"And this is Elvia! One of our newest guests here at the Hazbin Hotel — she's on the path to redemption!"

Elvia blinked, caught off guard by how kind that sounded. The words should've comforted her — they had, once. But now they hit like a weight in her chest. Charlie kept talking, her voice bright and hopeful. "She's been doing so well since she checked in! Everyone's been saying how polite and helpful she's been, and—"

"Oh, indeed!" Alastor's voice cut in smoothly, that familiar musical lilt wrapping around every syllable. "A true model guest. So determined, so devoted to her goal. Why, one could almost say it's divine."

The compliment dripped like poison. Elvia's jaw tightened, but she said nothing. Charlie laughed nervously, glancing between them again.

"Well, we are all here for the same reason, right? A fresh start. A second chance!"

Elvia forced a small smile, though her hands trembled where she held them clasped in front of her. "Right. A second chance."

Charlie seemed reassured by that, nodding eagerly.

"Exactly! I know it's not easy, but you're doing great, Elvia. I really believe in you."

That hit harder than it should have. For a moment, Elvia almost broke — the kindness in Charlie's voice threatening to splinter the mask she was barely holding together. "Thank you, Charlie," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

But Alastor's laugh rose from beside her, low and velvety, filling the space between them like a stormcloud. "Yes, yes, what a touching sentiment! Redemption! Hope! Such lovely ideals — though, of course..." He leaned slightly toward Elvia, his grin invisible to Charlie but sharp enough for her to feel. "...some souls take a little longer to see the light."

Elvia's nails dug into her palm, but she didn't rise to the bait. Charlie, oblivious to the venom beneath his tone, only smiled brighter. "That's okay! We're patient here. Everyone's journey looks different!"

"How beautifully put, my dear!" Alastor beamed. "Isn't that right, Elvia?"

Elvia finally looked at him then — just long enough for their eyes to meet. Her glare was quiet but cold, laced with all the fury she couldn't voice.

"Yeah," she said. "Different."

The silence that followed was thin and electric. Charlie, ever the optimist, clapped her hands again and turned around, glancing at the snake demon behind her as she motioned towards him. "You two have met our newest guest, Sir Pentious... Heh Heh." Elvia could tell she was trying her hardest to remain positive, keeping the tone light as she glanced between the two deers - oblivious, or refusing to notice the tension rising between them. 

Elvia took this as an opportunity to peer around Charlie, making eye contact with the snake demon from before, a bashful grin growing on his face as he stared back at her with wide eyes as he waved shyly - though she tried her hardest, she couldn't help the small smile growing on her face. 

Alastor glanced down at Elvia before turning back towards Sir Pentious, his signature grin growing as he motioned towards himself and Elvia as he spoke. "Ah, yes. You're the one who ruined my coat and dear Elvia's dress." His voice lowered as his tone turned sinister, the familiar hum of static surrounding them. "I definitely remember you now." 

The two demons in front of them gulped as they looked between one another, flickers of fear showing in their eyes before glancing at Elvia, though her expression matched Alastor's - her ears occasionally twitched as her smirk grew. Charlie took a subtle step backwards as she raised a finger, a small smile on her face. "Well, I think this is a great time for your first lesson:" She turned back towards Sir Pentious as she cleared her throat, shuffling to the side so the snake was face to face with the two deers - the large grins on both of their faces, causing the snake to shiver.

""How to apologise". The first step to becoming a better person is to admit when you are wrong," Charlie moved as she stood behind Pentious now, shoving him towards the two deers as his eyed widened and he started to tremble. Elvia let out a small sigh, dropping her smirk as she gave him a small smile instead, gesturing for him to go ahead. "Why don't you give it a try?" 

He looked back at Charlie for a beat before turning back towards the two demons as his gaze flickered between them, his voice wavering. "Yes, um... Mr, um, Radio Demon, sir and Mrs Voight," 

Elvia's eyes snapped open. The sound of her own name — that name — hit her like a cold slap. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

"...What did you just call me?"

Pentious blinked, confused, already sweating. "M-Mrs. Voight?" he repeated, the name awkward on his tongue.

The air went still. Even the faint hum of the hotel lights seemed to quiet.

Elvia stared at him — not angry, not yet — just staring, as if she could pull the answer straight out of his skull. "Who told you that name?"

"I—no one! I swear, it just— it slipped out!" He wrung his hands, eyes darting helplessly toward Charlie for help.

Charlie frowned, opening her mouth to say something, but the words died on her tongue. There was a look in Elvia's eyes that made even her hesitate — something sharp and wounded, a faint hum growing around them.

Elvia exhaled slowly, lowering her gaze. "It's fine," She said quietly. "Just... don't use it again." Her voice trembled at the edges despite her best effort to steady it. As she turned slightly, her eyes flicked toward Alastor.

He hadn't said a word. Just leaned casually on his cane, grin perfectly in place — a little too wide, a little too knowing. His crimson eyes glinted, watching her with polite curiosity, but beneath it was a spark of something darker. Amusement.

He knew exactly why the name rattled her — and he was enjoying every second of it.

Elvia's stomach twisted, a mix of humiliation and dread washing over her. She forced her expression neutral, but her hands had curled into tight fists.

"Let's... move on. Continue with your apology, Sir Pentious. " She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The demons surrounding stared at her for a moment, before Pentious gave her a curt nod, turning back towards the two of them again as he softly spoke. "Please forgive me for attacking you and ruining your very lovely coat and dress... Um, here..." He reached into his coat and pulled out two scraps of fabric, the blue and red contrasting against each other in his hand as he held them out towards the two deers. 

Alastor's grin grew as he reached out and took them from him, holding the fabric from his coat between his thumb and forefinger as he held the small part of Elvia's dress out to her. She let out a small sigh as she took it from him, letting it lie loosely in her hand as she stared down at it. 

"Oh-ho, not many people have been able to take even this much off me, yet alone Elvia. It must have meant quite a lot to you." 

Elvia's eyes blazed, her whole body stiff with irritation as the flame danced dangerously close to her fingertips. "Al! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she snapped, her voice sharp, ears flat against her skull.

Alastor yelped dramatically as she smacked his arm, though he quickly recovered, his grin widening as if the pain were nothing more than a delightful tickle. "Oh-ho! My, my, Elvia — such spirit! I do so adore it!" He leaned back slightly, allowing the faint crackle of static to flicker around him, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement. Meanwhile Sir Pentious and Charlie stared at the two - dumbfounded. 

"I do not adore this!" she shot back, jerking her hand away from the smoldering fabric. "You could have burned me! Do you even think before you do anything?!"

Alastor tilted his head, pretending to inspect her flinch like a curious scientist observing a specimen. "Burned you? Nonsense, my dear. I only provide perspective. A little reminder of just how... flexible one must be in Hell."

Elvia's ears twitched angrily, her tail lashing behind her as she clenched her fists. "Flexible? You call setting fire to my dress in my hand flexible?!"

He stepped closer, lowering his voice into that velvet murmur that always made her nerves twitch. "Why, yes. Flexibility is everything — especially when one must navigate... complicated situations, hmm?"

Her glare sharpened, eyes narrowing as she pressed her lips into a thin line. "I am not here to play your games, Alastor."

He gave a small, playful shrug, letting the fire die off with a snap of his fingers. "Ah, but every game has its lessons, and you, my dear, are a prodigy at learning them."

Elvia exhaled slowly, forcing herself to calm the rapid beat of her heart. She smoothed the now harmless fabric in her hands, giving him a measured look. "Prodigy or not, I don't need lessons from you. Especially lessons that hurt."

Alastor's grin softened just a fraction, the amusement still present but tempered with... what, respect? Interest? He let the moment hang between them, the static around him faint, almost contemplative. "Very well, dear Elvia. Perhaps I underestimated your resolve."

Her ears twitched, unsure whether to feel proud or frustrated by that. "Underestimated?" she echoed, her voice tight. "Don't ever underestimate me again."

He chuckled softly, leaning on his cane once more. "Never. Lesson learned. Though, I must admit, I do so enjoy your fire."

Elvia's gaze hardened, but a small, reluctant flicker of something almost like satisfaction—or at least recognition—crossed her mind. She straightened her posture, gripping the fabric firmly. "Then maybe you should start respecting it instead of... igniting it."

Alastor hummed, eyes glinting like a cat observing a particularly clever mouse. "Ah, yes. Respect. I shall consider it... most carefully."

The tension lingered, sharp and electric, but for a brief moment, neither of them spoke over it — a silent understanding passing in the crackle of the room, the unspoken challenge and intrigue hovering like static in the air.

Following their abrupt bickering, Charlie — eager to redirect the chaos — had gathered everyone into a separate part of the hotel lobby for a new "team exercise."

Elvia found herself standing beside Angel Dust and the two were across from Sir Pentious, who looked equally uncertain about what was going on. Charlie had personally chosen the three of them for this latest "trust and teamwork" experiment, much to their collective dismay.

Angel's usual getup had been traded for a long beige trench coat and a tilted fedora that did little to hide his grin. "Y'know, doll," he muttered under his breath, adjusting his hat with a wink toward Elvia, "I clean up pretty nice, huh?"

Elvia gave him a sideways glance, tugging the collar of her own coat — nearly identical to his — with a faint sigh. Her once knee-high dress had been replaced by a shorter one that ended around her mid thigh, simple but practical, paired with boots and a fitted trench that fell to her knees. "You look like a detective in a bad crime novel," she replied dryly, brushing an errant strand of hair from her face.

"Ouch," Angel said, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest. "Right in the ego. And here I thought we were partners in style."

"Not by choice," she muttered.

Sir Pentious, standing a few paces in front of them, adjusted his white hat nervously, mumbling to himself about "sinful choices" and "improper attire."

Charlie had given them all a sheet of paper, their lines highlighted in different colours as she made them begin. They stood in silence for a beat before Elvia shoved her elbow into Angel's side slightly, he let out a quiet "hey!" as he turned to glare at her, only to see her motioning towards the "script", and with a sigh he began. 

"Oh I'm a bad man on the streets who never got enough hugs." His voice was blank as he read it, letting out a sigh as he paused, turning to Elvia - motioning for her to continue. 

Elvia glanced down at the script, lips attempting to curl into a faint smile. She cleared her throat and read aloud, letting the words drip with boredom.

"I'm a bad woman..." She paused for a beat, her brows furrowing as she read the line in her head before tentatively saying it, her voice quieter than before. "who never got enough love as a kid."

Angel blinked as he glanced over at her, noticing how she had tensed and her ears occasionally flicked - something he had picked up on through their time spent together. He kept his gaze on her for a second longer before turning back to the paper in his hands, gripping it harder as he read out the next line. "Now, where's an innocent kid we can sell crack to?" The two glanced at each other as he finished, their expressions mirroring each other - pure boredom. 

Meanwhile Sir Pentious stood a few feet in front of them, licking a lollipop happily as he adjusted his hat from time to time and occasionally glanced at Charlie for reassurance. Letting out a low growl Elvia turned towards Charlie, attempting to keep her tone light. "Why are we doing this again?" 

Before she could reply Angel jumped in as well, slapping the script with one hand as he turned towards Charlie as well, his brows furrowed. "Wow. Who wrote this?" 

Charlie's smile grew as her gaze flickered between them, her smile encouraging as she held her fists up to her cheeks. "It's great, right? Keep going." 

Elvia let out a sigh before turning back towards her version of the script, reading it over quickly before looking up towards Sir pentious, as Angel raised a finger and pointed at him. "Hey you." 

The snakes head snapped up as he stared at the two of them expectantly, his grin wide as he replied. "Who, me?" 

Angel raised the paper higher as he read off it, his head tilting in confusion. "Yeah, you look like a kid who could use some devil's dandruff." He let out a deep sigh as his lower set of arms spread out and he turned towards Elvia, noticing the look on her face was the same as his - they were both unimpressed. "Oh, for fuck's sake." 

Elvia rolled her eyes as she turned back towards Pentious, glancing down at the paper occasionally while she spoke. "Yeah, come get some of our premium 'druff, we can give you a beginners discount?" The deer tilted her head as she continued to speak, the last part of her line coming out like a question instead of a statement. 

Across from them Sir Pentious gripped his lollipop tighter as he cradled it closer to him, closing his eyes and swaying as he shook his head no. "Not me. I have to go home and study." 

Angel tore his gaze from Elvia as he turned back to the sheet and continued the scene, done with the whole exercise already. "Come on kid, it'll make you cool like us..." He paused for a beat as he read the next two parts, a look of disgust showing on his face as he glanced at Charlie then back at Elvia, noticing the way she kept her gaze low - locked onto the floor, deep in thought. Without a second thought, he continued again. "The crack head, and.. the prostitute!" 

Sir Pentious Slithered closer to them, playing with the lollipop in his hands as a large smile grew on his face, following the lines Charlie had laid out for him. "The only cool this here is to say no to drugs. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage!" The snake demon glanced at Elvia while he spoke, his enthusiasm dropping a tad when he noticed she wasn't paying attention but continued nonetheless. 

As he finished Charlie immediately stood up, clapping her hands enthusiastically as she cheered, a large smile on her face. "Yes! Oh, bravo, bravo!" She slowly walked over to Sir Pentious, showering him with compliments on his performance while Elvia and Angel Dust stood off to the side, the two of them staring at Charlie and Pentious as small frowns grew on their faces. Angel turned towards her as he silently inspected her, taking note of the way she had her fists balled tight, and her ears remained flat against her head. He blinked before turning back towards Charlie and the other hotel members, his voice loud, but wavering slightly. 

"I... I'm going to bed. You comin'?" 

Elvia raised her head as she glanced at him, noticing the somber look in his eye she nodded and turned on her heel, Angel following right behind her as they neared the stairs, the sound of Charlie's praises to Sir Pentious causing the two to pause briefly before continuing their way to their rooms. 

Elvia's steps were quiet, measured, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders. She kept her gaze forward, ears still flat, ears flicking slightly at the distant sounds of laughter and applause echoing from the lobby. Angel fell into step behind her, his usual chatter replaced by a rare, reflective silence.

They reached the top of the stairs and paused for a moment, the dim lighting of the hallway casting long shadows across the walls. Elvia's hand lingered on her coat, tightening slightly around the fabric, as if holding onto some fragment of control in a world that had suddenly shifted beneath her.

Angel glanced at her briefly, then looked away, letting her carry her thoughts. "Night, sugar," he murmured softly, almost as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile quiet.

Elvia gave a small, almost imperceptible nod in response, her lips pressed tightly together. She didn't speak; words felt heavy and unnecessary. Together, they continued down the hall, side by side, the only sound their footsteps echoing softly in the empty corridor.

By the time they reached their rooms, the noise from the lobby had faded completely, leaving only the low hum of the Hazbin Hotel around them. Angel slipped quietly into his room, giving her a brief, understanding glance, while Elvia lingered just a moment longer, her thoughts drifting to Vox — to Vincent — and the knowledge that he was alive, here in Hell, and not yet within her reach.

With a deep, quiet breath, she turned the handle and stepped into her room, closing the door behind her. The soft click echoed in the silence, marking the end of the day — but not the end of what lay ahead.

The loud crashing from below her caused Elvia to jump out of bed, her ears flickering around wildly as she fumbled to cover up her pyjamas - but decided to chance it. As she opened her door, she came face to face with Alastor in the hallway, he was walking by with a quick pace. The air was tense between them as she froze up, staring at him with wide eyes. 

Alastor's ever-present grin stretched impossibly wide, but it didn't reach his eyes — those sharp crimson orbs glinting with amusement and calculation. He tilted his head slightly, tilting his cane against the floor as he stopped before her. The static in the hallway seemed to hum louder, curling along the edges of his coat.

"Well, well," he said smoothly, voice low but carrying that teasing lilt, "what do we have here? A dear little doe startled awake?"

Elvia's ears twitched back, and she wrapped her arms around herself instinctively, trying to cover up more than just her pyjamas. Her voice came out quiet, tight. "What... what are you doing here?"

"Merely passing through," he said, taking a measured step closer, the click of his shoes echoing in the hall. "Although... I must say, it is rather fortunate that I found you awake. One never knows what opportunities might arise during such... nocturnal wanderings. Now, follow me, dear."

He immediately strode off after he finished, slowing down slightly to allow her to catch up, though Elvia stood in her doorway for a moment, before snapping out of her daze and following behind him. 

They had descended the stairs and wandered through a dim corridor, passing several closed doors before coming upon two swung wide open, the rest of the hotel members having drifted elsewhere. The two deers lingered in the shadows for a moment, hesitant. Then, without warning, Alastor reached down and grabbed Elvia's wrist, pulling her along as he entered one of the rooms.

Inside, a small device — a watch — lay on the floor, humming faintly with electric static. Alastor bent down and snatched it up, and as he held it in his hands, sparks leapt along its edges. The moment it powered on, a voice crackled through the tiny speakers, and Elvia's head snapped up.

She had been silent since leaving her room, following Alastor without a single word. But the instant she recognized that voice, her body reacted before her mind could catch up. Her heart plummeted, a cold rush flooding her chest. She stepped closer to the Radio Demon, standing beside him as she stared at the watch. Her lips trembled, barely forming words:

"Vincent? Is... is that really you?"

Her voice wavered, breaking under the weight of disbelief and hope. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the screen flickered, static dancing across his image. On the other side, Vincent's—or Vox's—eyes went wide, his hands clutching at the desk as if it could anchor him to reality. The watch hissed faintly, electricity snapping, and his frame jerked slightly from the power surge.

"Via..." His voice was choked, distorted, but unmistakable. The familiar tone, the cadence of him calling her name, made her knees weaken.

Alastor's grin stretched impossibly wide, silent but sharp, a clear mix of amusement and satisfaction. He let her take the moment, his shadowed presence looming quietly behind her, letting the raw intensity of her reaction hang in the charged air.

Elvia's breaths came faster now, shallow and uneven. Her fingers curled around the edge of the watch as if it were a lifeline. "I... I thought you were gone," she whispered, voice breaking. "I... I thought I'd lost you."

The screen flickered again, Vox's image stabilizing for a brief instant. "Never... gone," he rasped, the desperation in his voice sending a jolt through her chest. "I... I've been looking... for you."

Her hands shook as tears spilled freely down her cheeks. For a moment, everything else — the chaos of the hotel, Alastor's looming presence, the shadows around them — ceased to exist. All that mattered was the sight of him, alive, here, and reaching for her through the static.

Elvia's voice broke again, barely a whisper. "Vincent... I'm here. I... I've been waiting."

Alastor's grin stretched impossibly wide, his crimson eyes glinting with sharp amusement. The static in the room seemed to pulse with his presence, echoing the tension. Without warning, he lunged forward and snatched the watch from her trembling hands, bringing it close to his face.

"You'll have to try harder than that next time, old pal!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with gleeful malice. In one swift motion, he crushed the watch in his hands, sparks flying, static crackling violently as the device gave a final, distorted shriek before going silent.

Elvia froze, her chest tightening as she stared at the mangled remnants, her heart sinking. The screen — and Vox's desperate plea — were gone in an instant, leaving nothing but the faint smell of ozone and the ringing silence of loss.

Alastor leaned back slightly, letting the broken watch fall to the floor with a soft clatter. His grin remained, but there was a dark satisfaction in it now, the kind that made the shadows themselves seem to shiver.

"Now, my dear," he said smoothly, voice low and velvety, "I believe you'll find the evening... more enlightening if you're left to contemplate a bit of absence."

With that, he spun on his heel and strolled out of the room, leaving Elvia standing alone. Her fingers hovered over the shattered device, her mind reeling, chest tight, and the oppressive silence pressing down around her. The weight of decades, the lost hope, and Alastor's gleeful interference settled in her stomach like a stone.

She sank into a chair by the wall, staring blankly at the floor where the watch lay in pieces, the memory of his voice still echoing in her mind — just out of reach.

Elvia remained in the room for a long moment, her chest tight and her hands hovering over the shattered watch. The faint hum of static from the walls seemed to mock her, a reminder of what had just been taken from her. Finally, with a shaky exhale, she turned away from the floor and walked toward the door.

The hall outside was quiet, the dim lighting casting long shadows along the worn carpet. Each step felt heavy, like dragging decades of loss with her. She ignored the occasional creak of the floorboards or the distant echo of laughter from the lobby, letting herself focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

When she reached her room, she closed the door gently behind her and leaned against it for a long moment, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor. Her trench coat fell around her like a cocoon, and she buried her face in her hands. The tears she had been holding back spilled freely, a quiet tribute to decades of waiting, longing, and now frustration.

Slowly, she pulled herself to her bed, curling up under the blankets in the small, quiet room. The events of the evening—the flash of Vox's image, Alastor's cruel grin, the shattered watch—played over and over in her mind. Her fingers absentmindedly brushed the chain around her neck, clutching the ring at her chest as if it could anchor her through the storm of emotions.

Exhaustion finally claimed her. Her eyelids drooped, and though her heart still ached and her mind spun with memories and what-ifs, sleep took her gently, pulling her into dreams where, for a few fleeting moments, Vincent's voice wasn't just a memory, and the world felt a little less cruel.

Sleep carried her away, deeper than before, and she found herself back in a small, dimly lit apartment. The wooden floors creaked under their feet, paint peeled from the walls, and a single lamp cast a warm, flickering glow across the room. It smelled faintly of rain through the cracked window and of the coffee Vincent had brewed that morning.

Vincent stood across from her, sleeves rolled up, suspenders over a worn shirt, tie loosened, his hair tousled. There was a shy, nervous energy about him, the kind that always made her heart ache a little. "Uh... so, uh, I know the room's small, and, well... the music's not exactly... fancy... or anything like your father's parties..." he said, motioning vaguely to the scratchy record playing in the corner.

Elvia's lips twitched in amusement. "It's perfect," she said softly, stepping closer.

He blinked at her, a little stunned, before holding out his hand awkwardly. "So... would you... dance with me?"

She hesitated just a moment, then let him take her hand. "Of course, Mr Voight." She kept her tone teasing as their fingers intertwined, and he tugged her gently into the center of the room. The record crackled faintly, playing an old swing tune, but the rhythm carried them effortlessly.

They swayed together, her head resting lightly against his chest, his hands gentle but sure around her waist. "You're... warm," he murmured, his voice low, almost shy. "And... I'm... really glad it's you."

Elvia let out a quiet laugh, the sound mingling with the soft scratch of the record. "Me too," she whispered. "I don't... I don't think I could ever dance with anyone else."

Vincent smiled, a mixture of awe and tenderness. "Promise me... we'll get through everything, somehow. Together."

"I promise," she replied, leaning into him, letting the worries of the world outside that little apartment melt away.

They continued to sway, the city outside forgotten, the rain tapping softly against the window. For a fleeting, beautiful moment, there was no Hell, no Alastor, no shattered watches—only the two of them, two young souls clinging to hope, laughter, and love in a world that had given them little else.

But, as always, dreams have edges. The record skipped, the lamp flickered, and the warmth of the apartment began to blur. She clutched at him, voice trembling, "Don't... don't go..." and everything faded to black again.

Chapter Text

The morning light came in too bright. Elvia woke with a sharp inhale, the sound of her own breath startling her. For a moment, she didn't remember where she was — the warmth of the dream still clung to her, the music, the touch, the voice whispering her name through the static.

Then it all came crashing back. The watch. Alastor's hand closing around it. The crunch of glass and metal. His smile. Vincent's- no, Vox's face when he saw her. 

Her stomach turned.

She sat up slowly, every motion deliberate, as if the air itself might shatter her if she moved too fast. Her eyes were sore, her throat raw. The memory of her breakdown felt like a bruise pressed against her ribs.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains — pale and indifferent. The room smelled faintly of burnt ozone and rain, though the storm had passed. She rubbed her arms, trying to steady the tremor in her hands. Her gaze drifted toward the window — and that's when she saw it.

A small box sat neatly on the sill. Black. Perfectly square. She was certain it hadn't been there last night.

Elvia froze and for a long, thin moment, she just stared at it, her mind refusing to connect the dots. The surface of the box was slick it's black and blue surface looking almost like a mirror - reflecting the morning light in sharp angles. It looked out of place — too clean, too new, too... modern.

Her ears pinned against her head as she stared at it for a moment, her head tilting in confusion as her mind raced. Cautiously, she pushed back the blanket and stood, her bare hooves whispering against the floor. The air near the window hummed faintly, a static that raised the tiny hairs on her neck.

She reached out tentatively - afraid of what it was, who it could be from. The box was cold to the touch — unnaturally so. As she lifted the lid, she stared at the contents nestled inside, her confusion only growing.

A strange object stared back at her. Rectangular. Smooth. Black glass framed in silver - it looked almost like a mirror as she stared at her reflection in the glass. She blinked at it, tilting her head, utterly lost. It didn't look like anything she knew — not a trinket, not a relic. Until it pulsed faintly, a small light beating beneath its surface like a heartbeat, causing Elvia's eyes to widen as she held the box as far away from her as she could for a moment - her mind racing. 

She held it away for a few beats, waiting, testing the waters of this unknown object. Slowly, she edged the box closer again, looking down inside it once more, glaring at the small object inside. Her head tilted as she debated her options, her ears twitching occasionally as she mentally listed the pros and cons, shifting from one hoof to another. Before she silently reached out, holding her breath as she grasped the object, it was cool against her fingers as she pulled it from the confines of the box, allowing it to rest in her hand. The moment she touched it, the screen came alive.

Her eyes blew wide as she gasped, her ears falling back against her head, she stumbled back slightly as glowing letters appeared on its surface — the white contrasting against the black, crisp and deliberate.

Good morning, darling.

Don't be afraid. 

You'll figure it out.

— V

Her pulse stuttered.

That letter. That signature.

V.

Her hands trembled as she stumbled backwards, falling back onto the bed, the strange object still glowing faintly in her palm as she stared down at it in awe. "Vincent..." she whispered, the word barely a breath.

Of course it didn't answer. The screen stayed still, the letters burning faintly before fading away.

Her curiosity warred with dread. She turned it over, tracing the cool surface with her thumb. There were no cracks, no switches. Only the faint shimmer of light that responded to her touch — a ghost trapped under glass. With hesitant curiosity, she brushed her fingers across the surface again. The light returned, this time revealing something new — a simple white icon shaped like a speech bubble. She tapped it.

A single name appeared.

Vox

No other contacts. No numbers. No instructions. Just his name, glowing faintly like an open door.

Elvia swallowed hard.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, but she didn't move. The temptation was there — the ache of wanting to know why. Why after all this time. Why now. But the fear ran deeper. If she pressed that name, if she tried to speak — it would mean acknowledging it was him. That he was in Hell along with her, she wasn't the same delicate wife he once had and he certainly wasn't the same man she had known before. That he'd somehow reached her again through the ashes of her grief and Alastor's control. And if Alastor ever found out...

She shut the screen off abruptly, clutching the thing to her chest as if afraid it would vanish — or worse, come alive again.

The silence returned, heavy and suffocating.

Outside, faint sunlight flickered against the glass, but the light seemed to bend strangely — like a camera lens focusing somewhere unseen.

Elvia placed the phone on the nightstand, facedown, the glow fading to nothing, but she could still feel it. That hum in the air. That familiar presence just out of reach.

She sat there for a while, staring at the faint outline of the phone beneath the thin layer of morning light. It didn't move. It didn't make a sound. But she could feel it — the way one feels the eyes of a portrait that follows you across a room.

When her pulse finally slowed enough to stand, Elvia pushed herself up and crossed the room, each step heavy with the kind of fatigue that came after too much emotion. The thought of the phone — of him — lingered at the edges of her mind, constant as a heartbeat she couldn't shut out.

She needed to breathe. To wash it off. All of it.

The bathroom light flickered to life when she turned it on. The mirror greeted her with a pale reflection, eyes red-rimmed, cheeks tear stained from the night before, hair tangled, skin sallow beneath the sterile glow, her ears downturned. The person staring back looked nothing like the one she used to be — not the woman who once danced beneath the stares of men at her father's parties, not the woman who once danced with her husband in their living room, nor the one who had ever believed in second chances.

Elvia turned away - ashamed at herself.

The shower sputtered to life, the pipes groaning as water rushed through. Steam curled up almost instantly, softening the sharp edges of the morning. She stepped in without testing the temperature — let the first cold shock bite into her skin before it settled into warmth.

The water traced down her neck, her shoulders, washing through her hair like static come alive. It should have been soothing, but every sound — every droplet — felt amplified.

She could still hear it. The faint hum beneath the water's hiss. That low, whispering frequency that wasn't supposed to exist anymore. Her hand braced against the tile. The chill of it bled through her palm as she bowed her head, water streaming down her face in rivulets.

She thought of the way Alastor's hand had crushed the watch — so effortlessly, like the past had never mattered. She thought of the sound — that sharp crack, Vox's screams echoing from the walls surrounding them — and then the silence that followed. And then she thought of him.

"Good morning, darling."

The words crawled through her head, as though the water itself was replaying them, saying them in his voice. Her throat tightened. She pressed her palms against her ears, trying to shut it out, but the hum only seemed to grow louder in her chest. 

When she finally turned off the water, the sudden quiet felt deafening. Elvia stood there for a long moment, dripping and shivering, her reflection blurred in the fogged glass. Somewhere beyond the door, the faintest flicker of light pulsed — blue and soft, bleeding through the crack beneath it.

Her heart lurched. The phone. It was glowing again.

Elvia lingered in the doorway for a beat, droplets of water still tracing down her arms, her hair heavy and damp against her neck. The room looked unchanged — soft light, quiet air — except for that small, impossible glow pulsing faintly on the nightstand.

The phone.

It illuminated the surrounding dark like a heartbeat. Once. Twice. As is if it were calling out to her.

She wrapped the towel tighter around herself and took a few hesitant steps forward. The closer she got to the device, the stronger the hum became — a low vibration that seemed to run through the floorboards. It wasn't loud, but it was alive.

When she had finally rounded her bed and now stood in front of her nightstand, she stared down at the device, squinting her eyes as she examined it. Her fingers hovered above it for a moment before she picked it up. The glass was warm this time. It came awake at her touch, the pale light spilling across her face.

A new message had came through.

I know you're scared. I shouldn't have reached out like this. But I couldn't stand the silence anymore.

Elvia's breath caught. Her thumb hovered over the name again — Vox. She was slowly delving into madness. She had to be.

But the longer she stared at the screen, rereading the words over and over again, the harder it became to resist. All the thoughts she'd swallowed down since last night rose in her throat, begging to spill out. Slowly, she pressed on the message. The chat window opened and displayed the message from before. At the top, only one word glowed faintly - Vox.

For a long time, she just stared at the blinking cursor, her reflection faint in the glass. Her heart thudded dully in her chest. Before she could stomach sending a reply, three little dots had appeared on the bottom of the screen below the previous message. The sudden change on the screen causing the deer to panic, her mind racing - afraid she had pressed something and broke the device. But before she could inspect it further wnd figure out what she had done, the object vibrated in her hands as a new message appeared below the previous. 

Elvia felt as if her heart was about to burst out of her chest, her eyes were now wide, ears flat against her wet hair as she stared down at the glowing screen, afraid to read the new message. She screwed her eyes shut for a moment as she let out a small sigh, tightening her grip on the phone as she opened her eyes and read it. 

You always said you hated mornings. I see that hasn't changed.

Elvia froze. Her mind slowly starting to piece things together until one faint thought lingered, pushing all of the others out of her brain for a moment. How did he know? 

A small scowl grew on her face as she pulled the device closer to her face, staring directly at it as she silently twisted it in her hands, carefully inspecting it, attempting to figure out how he could have known - until her eyes landed on a small black dot at the top of the screen. Her eyes narrowed as she stared directly into it and a faint smirk grew on her face instead - she had figured it out - there was a small camera in the device. He had been watching her through it since she had taken it out of it's box.

With a proud smirk still on her face she realised she hadn't replied to him and let out a small whisper, cursing to herself. She tapped impatiently on the screen, attempting to figure out how to send a message back, until a small keyboard appeared at the bottom of the screen and with shaking fingers, she typed out her reply. 

Vincent..? Is it really you? If you're trying to scare me, you're doing a wonderful job.

She hesitated for a moment — then hit send.

The message appeared on the screen in clean white text. She started at it expectantly, a small smile on her face as she felt her tail twitch behind her. But no reply came. No flicker. Just silence.

She waited another breath, then another. Nothing.

Her stomach twisted as she feared she had said the wrong thing, regret washing over her as her thoughts raced. Suddenly, she turned the screen off as she let out a sigh, the glow surrounding her disappearing and set the phone carefully back down on the nightstand — as though putting it away might erase what she'd done.

Her reflection in the dark glass looked smaller than she remembered.

Wrapping the towel closer, she crossed the room to her dresser, pulled on a fresh dress - albeit the exact same blue dress as always - and settled into seat of her vanity as she tried to steady her shaking hands as she brushed through her damp hair. The sound of the bristles filled the silence like static.

But underneath it — beneath everything — she could feel it again. That familiar watching. That faint hum that followed her everywhere.

She set the brush down. The air felt heavier now. Charged. Then —

A knock. Three light taps, spaced like a rhythm.

Her breath hitched.

"Good morning, my dear," came the familiar voice from the other side of the door — cheerful, smooth, and full of static warmth. "May I come in?"

Elvia's pulse jumped. She glanced at the nightstand — at the phone, still facedown where she'd left it. Abruptly she stood, the legs of the chair scraping across the wooden floor as she strode over to her nightstand, grabbing the device as she tore one of the drawers open on the nightstand and tossed the phone inside before slamming it shut. She let out a small sigh as she turned back towards the door, realising she hadn't answered Alastor. 

Elvia hesitated for a moment scrambling to figure out what to do, as she - as silently as she could - made her way back towards her vanity and sat down again. "...Yes, come in," she finally spoke, her voice firmer than she had intended.

The door swung open immediately, and Alastor stepped inside, his ever-present grin bright as his teeth shone in the light, the static shimmer around him soft in the morning light filtering through the blinds. "Ah, there you are," he said, voice like a piano key pressed just right. He paused for a moment, his eyes raking over Elvia as his grin grew a fraction as he took in her wet appearance and spoke again, his tone teasing this time. "Took you long enough. Did the shower... wash away all your fright, hmm?"

Elvia forced a small smile, shrugging as she tore her gaze from him and stared at her reflection instead, slowly reaching over to pick her hairbrush up again and began to tug the knots from her hair. "...It's not polite to linger outside someone's door, Alastor."

He chuckled, though it lacked the usual malice this morning, instead it was replaced with something else - something Elvia couldn't put her finger on, it sounded almost like warmth. "True enough. But I do worry, you know," he said, tilting his head as if studying her carefully. "Breakfast is ready. Would you care to join me?"

Her ears perked and her tail twitched, a rush of anticipation bubbled in her chest and she momentarily forgot about the device in her nightstand. Tearing her gaze from the mirror, the smaller deers head whipped around to face Alastor as a small smile grew on her face.  "Breakfast?" she asked, though her voice carried a flicker of excitement now.

He nodded, gesturing toward his room down the hall. The door was propped opened to reveal the morning light spilling across a small table in the bayou - a part of Alastor's room that had always left her breathless, the intricate details in the trees, the constant forest hue, it was beautiful - upon which lay the centerpiece: a dead deer, pristine and perfectly arranged, just as she would have liked it.

Her heart leapt. A thrill ran through her chest. This — this was the part of Hell she understood. The quiet satisfaction of the hunt, the intimacy of a meal prepared with care. She pushed her chair back, standing up as she stepped towards Alastor, ears twitching in excitement.

"You... made this?" she asked, though her voice was light, more curious than repulsed.

Alastor's grin widened as he watched her approach, eyes glinting with a strange amusement. "Of course," he said smoothly, voice softening in a way she rarely heard from him. "I thought we could start the day properly... together." His gaze flicked to her briefly, then back to the table, taking in her subtle shiver of excitement and the twitch of her tail.

Elvia's hooves barely made a sound against the wooden floor as she drew closer, her breath catching at the scent of the prepared deer. The thrill of it, the anticipation she felt, mingled with something sharper — the faint hum of the device tucked away in her drawer. She froze for a heartbeat as it vibrated against the wood, faint but insistent, a reminder that someone else was reaching out to her.

Alastor's sharp ears twitched ever so slightly at the sound, though he didn't comment. Instead, he leaned casually against the doorway, watching her with that unnerving calm of his. Then, for just a moment, his gaze drifted to the windowsill. The black and blue box sat there innocuously, catching the morning light, a small shard of the outside world intruding into their private space. He didn't say a word — only raised a brow ever so slightly, as if taking note of it without disrupting the moment.

"You're taking your time," he said, voice light, teasing. "Did the shower linger longer than expected, or were you simply savouring the anticipation?"

Elvia forced a small laugh, trying to play off the trembling in her limbs. "Perhaps a little of both," she said, her ears flicking nervously toward the drawer where the phone lay hidden. She clenched her jaw in a subtle attempt to anchor herself, but the vibration beneath the wood kept tugging at her attention.

Alastor's grin remained, a faint edge of knowing beneath it, though he said nothing about the hum or the black box. "Well, anticipation can be a good thing," he murmured. "Keeps the senses sharp. Don't you think?"

Elvia's heartbeat raced at the implication, not just in his words but in the shared excitement of the meal awaiting them. She nodded subtly, trying to mask the way her claws itched to open the drawer and see the device again. The air between them thrummed, quiet but electric, as if even the room itself was holding its breath.

Finally, Alastor gestured toward his room, a soft, coaxing motion as he pushed himself off the doorway and took a step into the hallway, before turning back to face Elvia. "Shall we begin?"

Elvia's ears perked, tail flicking with renewed enthusiasm. "Yes," she said, a thrill threading through her voice as she stepped fully into the hallway, following behind him with a small smile on her lips. He stepped into the room first, walking over to the table, while she slowly entered his room, letting the morning light wash over the table and the perfect, waiting meal.

The drawer in her room vibrated again, but she ignored it for now, the faint hum drowning out, instead being drawn entirely to Alastor and the feast he'd prepared — and to the quiet, unspoken acknowledgment that somewhere, just out of reach, Vox was watching her.

Elvia slid into the chair across from Alastor, her breath quickening as she took in the careful arrangement of the deer before them. The scent was intoxicating — iron-rich and earthy, a promise of something primal, something shared. Her claws twitched with anticipation, and a thrill ran along her spine as she realized just how much she had missed this—this intimate, dangerous ritual that only they understood. It had been some time since the two of them had indulged like this - a month or two - and Elvia couldn't help her mouth watering at the sight.

Alastor had been one of the only people to understand her. The act of cannibalism was frightening, not even sinners approved of it - apart from cannibal town, and even at that, all sinners attempted to stay as far away from there as they could - so when Alastor had shared he was also a cannibal she couldn't help but grow attached to him, to fall into his trap and be under his control.

She was broken from her thoughts when Alastor pushed a plate toward her, his grin softening into something almost... gentle. "Dig in," he said, voice low, almost conspiratorial, as though he were letting her in on a secret that belonged only to them. The static around him seemed to settle, the usual sharpness replaced with a strange warmth.

Elvia's hands hovered over the meat for a moment, savouring the quiet, the tension, the delicious scent mingling with the faint hum still resonating from the drawer in her room. She forced herself to look at him instead, letting her eyes meet his as she carefully cut into the tender flesh.

"Last night..." she began, the words catching in her throat. She tried to make it casual, to brush over the memory of Alastor's hand smashing the watch and the echoes of Vox's presence - but it was still raw, still gnawing at her. "What you did.. I'm upset, Alastor.. .You startled me. But... I suppose that's nothing new."

Alastor chuckled softly, the sound less menacing than usual, more like a private joke shared between them. "Ah, my dear," he said, tilting his head, "I do try to keep things lively. But perhaps I went a bit too far this time, hm?" His grin remained, but the edges were softer, almost apologetic.

Elvia nodded, biting into the meat, the rich flavour filling her senses and grounding her. Her tail flicked, betraying the excitement she felt in this dangerous, private communion. She glanced briefly toward her room, the thought of the device locked away in her nightstand gnawed at her, and then she turned back towards Alastor. He noticed — and she could feel it — but said nothing, his sharp eyes merely lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. He knew.

"You've grown... more cautious," he said, voice teasing, almost approving. "I can see it in your eyes. Something's caught your attention."

Elvia felt her ears twitch, the hairs at the back of her neck stood up. She leaned slightly forward, pretending casual curiosity. "Oh? And what makes you say that?"

Alastor's grin sharpened slightly, though his tone remained soft. "The way you glance towards your room," he said, nodding subtly toward it, "and the little hum that has been following you." He didn't name it, didn't mention Vox outright, but the implication hung heavy in the air.

Elvia forced a laugh, letting it spill over like a curtain drawn too quickly. "Just... enjoying the morning light," she replied, voice light, masking the thrum of excitement and fear that pulsed in her chest. Her tail flicked against the chair leg and her ears flattened, her body betraying her more than her words ever could.

Alastor hummed in response, eyes never leaving her. "Mm. Enjoy it while you can. Breakfast waits, and... well, so do the pleasures of company." He gestured subtly with a flick of his hand toward the plate in front of him, the invitation unmistakable.

Elvia took a careful bite, savouring the flavour, the intimacy, the thrill of sharing this meal with him. Outside, the sunlight continued to filter through the blinds, casting the room in golden stripes, but inside, the danger and the warmth mingled, and for a moment, she felt... alive.

Yet, even as she ate, the faint vibration in the drawer reminded her — Vox was still out there. Watching. Waiting. And somewhere, beneath the edge of pleasure and danger, a tiny spark of curiosity and longing flickered in her chest.

Elvia chewed slowly, trying to focus on the flavor and the warmth of Alastor's presence, but the faint hum from the drawer gnawed at the edges of her mind. Each vibration made her tail twitch involuntarily, each subtle pulse reminding her that Vox was still there — still reaching out, still... waiting. Waiting on her.

Alastor noticed, of course. He didn't speak of it, but his eyes flicked ever so slightly toward the windowsill where the black box lay, his grin never faltering but somehow sharper, more knowing. He leaned back, one clawed hand resting on the table, watching her with the patience of a predator who knows its prey has a secret it cannot hide.

"Something on your mind, my dear?" Alastor asked, his voice deceptively casual, though the glint in his eye betrayed the slightest edge of curiosity.

Elvia forced a small, distracted laugh, trying to hide the tension that had suddenly tightened around her chest. "No... just... enjoying breakfast," she said, though her ears flicked toward the drawer, toward the vibration she could feel more than hear.

Alastor tilted his head, static crackling faintly around him. "Mm. I see." His grin widened ever so slightly. "Yet there is... a subtle distraction, yes? Something... buzzing, whispering. You can almost feel it, can't you?"

Her pulse quickened, and she set down her fork, pretending to adjust her dress as she looked away. "I... suppose it's nothing. Just... nerves, maybe," she replied, trying to keep her tone light, teasing even.

Alastor chuckled softly, the sound smooth and low, almost indulgent. "Ah, nerves," he said, tapping a clawed finger against the table. "Understandable. Though I must admit, curiosity does tend to creep in where nerves linger." His gaze lingered on her hands, her movements, the way her ears twitched despite her attempt at composure.

Elvia swallowed hard, trying to steady herself. The thrill of the breakfast, the danger of sharing this moment with him, it all warred with the pull of the device tucked away in the drawer. She could feel it — Vox — vibrating, alive, trying to communicate again. And for the first time, she realized she couldn't simply ignore him forever.

Alastor, for his part, said nothing more about it. He continued to eat with meticulous grace, his eyes flicking toward her now and then, sharp and calculating, yet never condemning. He knew. He always knew. But he let her dance along the edge of her curiosity, letting the tension build like a quiet storm.

Elvia's fingers twitched involuntarily, hovering near the edge of her lap as if she could somehow feel the device beneath the wood. Each pulse of the hum made her heart race faster, the thrill of danger mingling with the primal excitement of the meal before her. She glanced at Alastor again, catching that subtle, knowing look, and shivered — part fear, part anticipation.

She realized, with a mixture of dread and exhilaration, that she was trapped between two forces: the deliciously dangerous presence of Alastor in the room with her, and the invisible pull of Vox reaching through the device, waiting, watching, demanding attention. And somewhere deep in her chest, a spark of excitement flared — a mixture of fear, hunger, and curiosity that made the morning feel like the edge of a knife.

Alastor broke the silence with a soft, teasing hum, glancing at her once more. "Do you always ponder so heavily before eating, my dear? Or is there... something more at play today?"

Elvia forced a laugh, masking the tremor in her claws. "I... I suppose I'm just... savoring it," she replied, voice light but her mind already spinning toward the drawer and the pulsing black box hidden within it.

Before she could let her mind wander further, Vaggie abruptly opened the door of Alastor's room. The upbeat jazz music surrounding the two deers pausing as their heads snapped towards her, Alastor's hand freezing midair while Elvia's fists slowly balled. "Alastor!" Vaggie's eyes widened as she took in the scene before her, her eyes flickering from Alastor towards Elvia, taking note of the residue of deer surrounding her lips - having not been wiped off yet - and she slowly frowned - digust evident on her face. 

Alastor was the first to break the silence between them, gesturing towards Elvia as he spoke, the meet hanging loosely from his fork as he waved it around. "Do you mind? Me and Elvia are in the middle of breakfast." As he finished he raised his fork again, shoving the meat into his mouth and chewed on it, while Elvia continued to stare at Vaggie, listening intently to her. 

"Pentious's eggs are all over the place, and I need you to get rid of them." Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Alastor, before allowing her gaze go flicker towards Elvia, noticing the way she had started patting around her mouth with a napkin and slowly pushed herself out of her seat, brushing imaginary dust from her dress. 

Alastor had instead summoned his cane and began to approach Vaggie, Elvia following behind him as she gazed at the eggs at Vaggie's feet, her eyes sparkling with something Vaggie couldn't name. "Oh, well, in that case I'd be delighted to!" 

"Humanely!" 

Alastor's signature smirk fell for a second before it quickly returned, as he bashfully turned back towards Elvia, sparing her a playful glance. "Hm. Well, that's a lot less fun, but I suppose I can take care of them on my outing today." He pushed past Vaggie as he spoke, walking into the hallway leaving Elvia and Vaggie behind, while the eggs trailed behind him - all except one. 

Vaggie glanced at the smaller deer before looking at the dead one on the table, flies swarming it as she let out a small gag. "Great. That looks disgusting." 

Elvia couldn't help but let out a small giggle, raising her hand to her mouth to hide her smile as she glanced between Vaggie and the deer. "Oh, trust me. It's an acquired taste. You grow to love it." 

She chose to ignore the judging glare she got from Vaggie in return and instead brushed past her, walking back along the hallway and slowly pushed her door open, turning around to wave goodbye to Vaggie before stepping inside - not noticing the small egg that had stumbled in behind.

Elvia closed the door behind her, the echo of Alastor's footsteps fading into the distance. The hum of her room felt heavier now, almost oppressive, as if it had been waiting. Her eyes flicked to the nightstand, and she exhaled shakily, remembering the drawer where she had hidden the phone.

She practically ran over to it as she yanked the drawer open.

The screen flared to life in her palm. Her heart skipped. Ten new messages blinked at her, each one from Vox, each one heavier than the last. Her ears flattened, tail twitching nervously.

The first message read.

You... you're with him. Watching, laughing, sharing meals. Do you even know what he's done?!

Elvia's claws curled around the device. Her chest tightened as she scrolled.

Do you think I'm just going to sit in silence while you play house? I saw him watching you, and it made me want to tear everything apart.

Her stomach sank. His anger was palpable through the words, each one stabbing at her with an intensity she could almost feel vibrating in the air around her. Her breath hitched. She almost wanted to throw the phone across the room. The egg that had followed her remained still, his feet glued in place as he stared at the deer - afraid to make a sound.

Then the tone shifted, just slightly, the sharp edges giving way to something softer.

I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to act like that. I just... I care about you more than I can handle sometimes. I hate that I lost so much time. I hate that you've been alone. I shouldn't have let my anger show like that. Please forgive me, Via.

Her ears twitched, tail flicking against the floor as her heart wavered between guilt, longing, and confusion. She felt the familiar tug of his presence through the device, an invisible thread weaving between them despite the distance. It felt as though she were talking to Vincent again, not Vox.

The last message glowed brighter than the rest, the screen almost pulsing like a heartbeat.

Meet me. I need to see you. Now. Please.

Elvia's pulse hammered in her chest. Her ears lowered, tail curling tightly, and a shiver ran down her spine. The anger, the fear, the tenderness — it all collided inside her, leaving her trembling and breathless.

She swallowed hard, staring at the message. Her claws hovered over the screen, heart pounding. Every instinct screamed caution, but the other half of her, the part that had longed for him for so long, whispered urgently - go.

Her lips parted as she slowly typed out her reply, and without a second thought, send it. 

...Where?

The phone's glow seemed to deepen in response, a silent promise that the wait — and the reckoning — was just beginning.

Elvia stepped out into the morning, the air sharp and unfamiliar against her skin. The streets were quieter than usual, the fog lingering low over cracked cobblestones, curling around the corners like whispered secrets. Every step felt measured, cautious, though her pulse hammered with a restless anticipation she hadn't felt in years.

Her mind spun with fragments of the messages she'd found in the drawer, flickering anger and sorrow and tenderness all tangled together. Vox had been watching. He'd seen her. He'd seen her with Alastor. His words had bitten, and then soothed, leaving her head dizzy, her stomach knotted with desire and fear both. Her mind raced wildly - would he still be the same as she remembered him, the same Vincent who would make a fool of himself just to see her smile, work until his body gave out just to keep her happy? 

The streets stretched on, empty but alive with echoes. A stray cat slipped between shadows, and she flinched at the sound of a distant clatter — every ordinary noise now seemed significant, laden with potential meaning. Was he waiting for her at the tower? Could she trust him? Could she trust herself?

The Vee Tower rose ahead, impossibly tall and sharp against the skyline, glass reflecting fractured sunlight in shards. It's presence was overwhelming, almost alive, as if it exhaled a slow, deliberate breath that rippled through the air. Her reflection danced across its mirrored surface, smaller, uncertain, yet stubbornly moving forward.

Her hooves clicked against the stone steps leading up to the entrance, each step a rhythm of hesitation and resolve. She didn't noticed thr faint sounds of footsteps behind her - the small egg running to keep up with her brisk pace. Thoughts tumbled — of last night, of the phone, of Alastor's shadow fading behind her. The anger, the longing, the sharp twist of excitement at seeing Vincent again pressed against her chest like a live wire.

And still, beneath it all, a quiet, reckless hope bloomed.

She reached the base of the tower, the doors immense and blue, the faint hum of energy vibrating through the metal beneath her hooves. Her heart surged. One step forward, then another. The messages, the camera, the way he'd known her — it all coalesced into a single, undeniable pull.

The lobby of Vee Tower was immaculate, gleaming, and impossibly tall, all glass and polished metal that reflected her image in fragmented shards. Her hooves echoed softly against the floor as she walked toward the reception desk, her ears flicking nervously at every sound.

A sleek, angular receptionist glanced up from a hovering holo-screen. "Yes?" Her voice was clipped, professional, and somehow distant.

"I... I'm here to see Vinc- I mean, Vox," Elvia said, her voice steadier than she felt. Her tail flicked uneasily behind her.

The receptionist didn't flinch, merely tapping a few keys before looking back up with the faintest hint of a smirk. "He's expecting you. Elevator's to your right. Go straight to the 33rd floor."

Elvia's chest tightened as she moved toward the elevator. The metallic box slid open silently, lights glowing along the edges as she stepped inside - oblivious to the small egg that rushed in before the doors shut. She pressed the button for the 33rd floor, and the doors sealed with a smooth, final click.

The ascent was slow, almost deliberate, each floor passing with a subtle vibration that seemed to hum against her bones. She kept her gaze low, the mirrored walls showing only fragmented glimpses of herself — pristine black curls that bounced when she moved, eyes wide and alert, the tension coiled in her shoulders.

When the doors slid open, she stepped out into a quiet, sterile hallway. The walls were a muted silver, adorned with subtle geometric patterns, and soft light spilled from hidden panels overhead. Her steps echoed faintly as she moved toward a sleek black door marked with Vox's emblem.

She stopped just outside the office, the polished surface gleaming under the gentle lighting. Her breath hitched. The hum of the building seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the sound of her own heartbeat thudding against her ribs.

Her hand hovered near the door handle, trembling slightly. She wanted to knock, wanted to push it open and run into his arms, but something in her chest tightened — the anticipation, the fear, the memory of the messages, the lingering anger, the love, the need.

A flicker of doubt crossed her mind. What if he was angry with her? What if the messages were a trap and it wasn't him? What if she couldn't face him?

And yet, beneath it all, a quiet, stubborn pulse of longing urged her forward. She drew in a breath, holding it, as if the act of stepping inside could decide everything.

One hand hovered over the handle. Another breath. She could almost feel him inside, waiting.

She was so close she could almost hear the faint buzz of his presence beyond the door.

Chapter Text

The door slid open with a low hiss. Elvia hesitated in the doorway, the cool hum of the room washing over her. The air smelled faintly of whiskey and cigarette smoke — an echo of something that shouldn't have survived decades, let alone after death.

The room was all light and edges. Screens flickered on every wall, whispering with static, each one casting a faint blue shimmer that painted the space in ghost-light.

And there he was.

Vincent. Vox. Whatever name he bore now — he stood near the far window, his back to her, the glow from the city bleeding through his translucent frame. The neon outside caught on his screen, bending, refracting. Elvia's eyes blew wide as she gawked at him, looking him up and down as she took his appearance in, ears twitching in anticipation. Instead of his usual mop of hair, he had two antennas now, one being slightly bent with a small top hat laid ontop of his head - or screen, the sight of the box where his head should have been made her mind race, confusion washing over her. Her eyes slowly drifted lower, inspecting the pristine blue suit he dawned, fitting snug against him - tailored to fit just right. He looked like something carved out of the noise itself — beautiful and wrong all at once.

Her breath caught.

Her fingers twitched at her sides as she stared at him, trying to reconcile the man she'd once held with the thing standing before her now. His head tilted slightly, catching the light — and she saw the faint shimmer of static tracing down the side of his jaw, the flicker of signal beneath the surface.

And then —

The light of the screens flickered.

The blue bled into gold.

The city disappeared and was instead replaced with their dingy appartement from when they were alive.

The smell of motor oil and cheap soap clung to Vincent's shirt, carried in with the autumn air when he stepped through the door. His tie hung crooked, the collar of his dress shirt damp from rain, and his smile — that stubborn, too-bright smile — was still there, though his eyes were tired beneath it.

"Evenin', sweetheart," he said as he shrugged off his coat, shaking droplets onto the worn linoleum.

Elvia peeked around the corner from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "You're late."

"Work ran over," he lied easily, setting his hat down. "And I, uh... might've stopped by the radio shop again."

She arched a brow, staring at him for a beat. "Vincent, you don't even own a radio worth fixing."

He grinned sheepishly. "No, but the fella there says they're hiring. I figured—well, maybe I could do some talking. Announcing. You know I've got the voice for it."

Her smile softened, though worry still lingered at the edges. "You're already working full-time at the lot."

"Yeah, but it's not enough, Via." He crossed the room and kissed her temple, the faint smell of tobacco on his breath. "I can handle another shift. Maybe this one'll stick."

She turned back to the stove, stirring the pot of stew. The broth was thin — more water than anything — but it filled the room with a small kind of comfort.

"You can't keep running yourself ragged," she murmured. "You'll make yourself sick at this rate."

He laughed quietly, leaning against the counter beside her as he stared down into the pot - grimacing. "Can't afford to get sick. Not with the way things are."

She hesitated then, her hand stilling on the spoon. The silence that followed made the rain outside sound louder. Her mind swirled with racing thoughts as she kept her gaze low, refusing to look at the man beside her. 

"Vincent," she said softly, "what if things change soon?"

He blinked at her, tilting his head as he peered at her, his brows furrowng. "Change?"

Her fingers brushed the fabric of her apron, twisting it nervously. "I mean... what if we have to start thinking about—about something more than just rent and groceries?"

He frowned slightly, searching her face for any indication of what she could be talking about. "Via, what are you—"

She glanced down, her voice barely above a whisper. "I haven't felt quite right lately. Been tired. Sick in the mornings."

His cigarette paused halfway to his lips.

"Elvia."

"I'm not sure yet," she rushed on, afraid of what his reaction would be. "but I think— I think it might be time to start hoping."

He stared at her for a long moment, and something fragile flickered in his expression — wonder, fear, disbelief. Then his hand found hers, fingers curling around her knuckles.

"Jesus," he breathed, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "You're serious?"

She nodded, eyes wet with a smile that was both nervous and certain.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the rain against the windows and the faint tick of the stove flame.

Then Vincent laughed — a real laugh, from deep in his chest, like he'd just been handed a piece of the world back. He pulled her close, arms wrapping around her waist, his nose brushing against her hair.

"Guess I'll need more than two jobs then," he murmured, trying for lightness.

She swatted his chest weakly, though she smiled as she pulled away slightly and stared up at him. "Vincent."

"I mean it," he said, pulling back just enough to look at her. "You'll rest. I'll handle the work. Both of 'em. Hell, I'll find a third if I have to."

Elvia hesitated, her eyes soft but uncertain. "You don't have to do that. I could always ask my father, you know. Just until things even out."

The words hung between them like smoke.

His smile faltered, just a fraction — not anger, but wounded pride. He dropped his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I don't need his money, Via." he said quietly. "I'll take care of us. I promised you that."

"I know, but—"

"No." His voice was gentle, but firm. "I won't have him thinking I can't look after my own wife."

Her heart ached at the tension in his tone — at the way shame had crept in around the edges of his love. She reached out, touching his cheek, trying to ease it away.

"Vincent," she whispered, "he doesn't think that."

He looked up, meeting her eyes, and for a fleeting moment, she saw the fear beneath all his stubbornness — fear of not being enough, of losing her, of being the man who loved too fiercely and failed too easily.

He kissed her palm, his voice soft again. "I've got this, Elvia. I swear I do."

She smiled, though her eyes glistened. "Then I believe you."

The moment stretched — tender and heavy, full of promises neither of them knew how to keep.

Outside, the city buzzed faintly through the rain — the hum of radios, of passing cars, of life moving on without them.

For a long moment, she didn't move. Couldn't. Her mind was a storm of memories — the laughter, the music, his hands on hers as they danced in the soft lamplight of their kitchen. The taste of bourbon and burnt toast. The way he'd kiss her cheek before leaving for work. The warmth that used to live in him.

And now... this.

"You came," he said softly, without turning. His voice crackled faintly — a low vibration that crawled up her spine. "I wasn't sure you would."

Elvia swallowed hard. "You didn't exactly leave me much of a choice."

He turned then.

The sight of his face — half-familiar, half-reconstructed — stole the breath from her lungs. His features were sharper now, inhumanly perfect, every line deliberate. The one thing that stood out was his eyes, the familiar different coloured eyes that took her breath away were staring back at her - digitalised, glitching. But beneath the glass and the glow, she still saw him. The shape of his mouth. The tilt of his head. Her Vincent.

For a moment, neither spoke. The silence felt sacred.

"I... didn't know if you'd remember me," he said finally, voice low, brittle. "After everything. After him."

Her chest ached at the mention. "Of course I remember you," she whispered. "How could I ever forget?"

He laughed — quietly, brokenly — and ran a hand over his jaw - or what should have been his jaw at least. "You'd be surprised how easily people forget down here." His gaze flickered toward her, unreadable behind the glow. "But not you. You never change, do you?"

Elvia's lips parted in a faint, sad smile. "I think we both have, Vincent."

That name — the old one — hit him like a punch. For a moment, the static in the room dimmed, the flickering lights steadying.

He took a step forward - getting closer to her. "Say that again."

Her breath stilled. "Vincent..."

He closed his eyes. The glow beneath his skin pulsed once — soft, like a heartbeat. "God, I've missed hearing that," he murmured.

Elvia's throat tightened. "You shouldn't have contacted me," she said, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound firm. "If Alastor—"

"I don't care." His voice was rougher now. "I've been watching you trapped in that place, living under him, and I couldn't—" He cut himself off, the static spiking. "I couldn't stand it. You don't belong to him. You never did."

Her breath faltered, the heat rising in her chest. "And you think I belong to you?"

The question hung heavy between them. Vox's gaze softened, his edges flickering for a moment as though the emotion itself disrupted his perfect digital form.

"I used to think so," he said quietly. "But I'm not sure either of us belong to anyone anymore."

The silence that followed was unbearable — years of love and grief and death condensed into a breath they couldn't quite release.

Elvia looked away first, blinking back the sting behind her eyes. "You should've stayed gone," she whispered. "It would've been easier."

He stepped closer again, just enough for her to feel the hum of him — that faint electrical charge that used to be warmth. "Maybe," he said. "But easy isn't what I came here for."

Her gaze flickered up to his. "Then what did you come for?"

His smile was faint, almost human again. "You."

Elvia's breath trembled, her mind racing - not catching herself before she spoke again - repeating herself once more, firmer this time. "You shouldn't have reached out," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "I thought—" Her throat caught. "I thought you were gone. That you were safe."

Vox tilted his head slightly, that flicker of humorless amusement ghosting over his features. "Safe?" he echoed softly. "Elvia, there's no such thing as safe. Not for people like us."

She took a step forward before she realized it, hands twisting in the fabric of her skirt. "I prayed for you," she murmured, her voice cracking. "Every night. I thought you went somewhere good. I thought—" She stopped herself, pressing a trembling hand to her mouth.

Something in Vox's expression broke. The flickering light around him dimmed, softened. "You thought I went to Heaven," he finished for her, quiet now.

Her gaze met his, full of pain - the years of grief catching up to her. "You deserved to."

He laughed, a short, jagged sound. "I didn't, darling. You know I didn't." His voice dropped lower, harsher. "And neither did you."

Elvia's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at him - mind racing, the memories of what she had done while alive were slowly starting to surface - the facade was cracking. Her eyes filled with tears at that — the kind she hadn't allowed herself in years. "I didn't want this," she whispered. "I didn't want Hell. I only wanted—“

"Me," he said. Not a question. A statement.

Her breath hitched.

He stepped closer — slow, careful, as though afraid she might vanish if he moved too fast. The glow beneath his skin pulsed faintly, and for the first time, she saw the ghost of her husband in that light — not the static demon everyone feared, but Vincent, the man who used to kiss her hands while the gramophone hummed in the background.

"Elvia," he said, and her name sounded right again, like it had been waiting on his tongue all this time. "You came all this way. You made a deal with him. For what?"

She swallowed, her voice trembling. "Because I thought I'd never see you again."

Silence. The kind that pulled the air from her lungs.

Then, slowly — hesitantly — Vox reached out a hand toward her. His fingers glowed faintly, light humming along their edges. "And now you do."

She stared at that hand for a long, shaking moment. Then she stepped forward — so close she could feel the faint static brushing against her skin. It didn't hurt. It tingled, soft and familiar.

"I missed you," she breathed, and the words cracked halfway through.

His hand hovered near her cheek but didn't touch. "I missed you more than Hell could stand."

For a long moment, neither of them moved — just breathed in the space between their ruins.

Finally, she whispered, "What happens now?"

He smiled faintly, though there was sadness in it. "That depends, darling. Do you still love me... or the man I used to be?"

Her answer came without hesitation. "Both."

The hum of the room deepened — something like relief, something like pain — and for the first time in decades, Elvia didn't feel alone.

Elvia stood frozen where she was, still tasting his name on her tongue. Vox — Vincent — whatever he had become — was close enough that she could feel the faint electric warmth coming off him. The soft hum of the screens behind him filled the silence between them.

Her hands trembled, her eyes darting anywhere but him as she finally spoke, voice small but steady. "Tell me," she slowly looked up - staring into his eyes as she continued. "What happened after I died?"

The words seemed to still him. For a long moment, he just looked down at her — really looked — as though trying to decide how much truth she could bear.

Finally, he laughed quietly, but there was no joy in it. "You mean, before all this?" He gestured loosely to the tower, the glowing screens, the city pulsing below like a circuit board. "Before I started talking to a million strangers just to stop hearing my own thoughts?"

Elvia's brows furrowed, her breath catching.

He smiled faintly, but it was tired — an old smile worn down to its wire. "After you died, I lost the only thing that made the noise make sense. I tried to keep living the way we used to. I'd play the records, sit by the radio, pour two glasses of wine out of habit." His tone darkened, the static in his voice deepening. "Then one day I realized I'd started talking back to the damn thing. The radio. Like it was you."

Her chest tightened as she listened to him continue. He had taken a subtle step back as his eyes darted around the room, refusing to look at her - he looked almost ashamed. 

"I'd read my sermons to the static," he went on, eyes distant now. "Started broadcasting them to anyone who'd listen. Hope, damnation, redemption — it didn't matter. I just wanted someone to hear me." His screen flickered. "They called me a prophet. A preacher. I called myself forgiven."

He laughed softly again, running a hand over his screen, dragging it down his face. "And then the cameras came. The sponsors. The fame. I stopped being Vincent — became something shinier, louder, bigger. The voice on every channel." His eyes found hers again — glowing faintly blue, but soft. "And when I finally burned out, when I died... Hell welcomed me like an old friend."

Elvia's ears drooped slightly as she stared at him, a hundred emotions crashing together in her chest — grief, pity, wonder, anger, love. "You always were good at talking to people," she whispered, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips.

He tilted his head, smirking faintly. "You always said I liked the sound of my own voice."

"I said you liked being right," she corrected softly, shaking her head at him.

He laughed — really laughed this time — and for just a flicker, he sounded like the man she remembered, the one who used to hum as he fixed the dial on their old radio, hands covered in grease.

The laughter faded, replaced by something quieter, heavier.

"I thought you went to Heaven," she said suddenly, repeating herself once more, the disbelief evident in her voice. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Something in Vox's expression cracked — just slightly.

"Oh, Elvia," he murmured, his voice low, electric. "If Heaven ever wanted me, they'd have taken me before you died."

Her eyes burned. "So you just... stayed down here? Preaching to the damned?"

He shrugged lightly, but there was a bitter edge to the gesture. "Someone's got to spread the word, right? Even if it's just my own."

They stood there for a long moment — silence filling the space where forgiveness might have lived.

Then, softly, he said, "I never stopped loving you, you know. Even when the cameras turned me into something else."

Elvia's throat tightened. She wanted to speak — to say something, anything — but the words wouldn't come.

Instead, she stepped closer, close enough to feel the faint hum of energy rising from his skin - closing the gap between them. "Then why does it feel like I'm talking to a stranger?"

Vox's eyes flickered. For a moment, his smile faltered — then returned, brittle around the edges.

"Because, darling," he said quietly, "you're still human enough to remember who I was."

The room buzzed softly with static. Outside, the skyline blinked in rhythm with his heartbeat.

And somewhere deep down, Elvia realized that though she'd finally found him again — the man she'd died loving — she wasn't sure she recognized the thing standing before her now.

The static deepened, a low hum that seemed to fill the air between them — alive, pulsing, aching. Elvia didn't move at first; she only stood there, watching him. The light from his screen face shimmered faintly over her skin, blue and cold, but beneath it was something real. Familiar.

Her breath trembled. "Vincent..." she whispered again — softer this time, as though afraid the name itself might break him.

He flinched, just barely. That glow in his eyes glitched, fractured, then steadied again as he looked down at her. "You shouldn't say it like that," he murmured. "You make it sound like I'm still him."

"You are," she said. "You always were."

And then she stepped closer — too close. Close enough that she could see her reflection in the smooth glass of his face, warped by the faint distortion of static. Close enough to smell the faint, familiar trace of tobacco and ozone that clung to him.

He didn't pull away.

His hand lifted slowly, uncertain, hovering beside her cheek — his fingers trembling, glowing faintly. He didn't dare touch her, not yet. The air crackled between them, charged with something that wasn't quite electricity and wasn't quite memory.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, voice low, strained.

"You won't," she whispered.

And with that, she closed the final inch between them.

The moment their lips met, the static surged — a soft, electric bloom that rippled through the room, flickering the lights overhead. It wasn't like kissing a man; it was like touching something alive and unstable, something that hummed and glowed and felt too much.

But beneath all the distortion — beneath the cold — was him. Her Vincent.

He kissed her back, hesitant at first, then deeper, as though relearning her. His other hand found her waist, his touch light but grounding, the hum of his energy resonating through her skin. She could feel every spark, every pulse. It didn't burn. It warmed.

When they finally parted, Elvia's breath came shallow. Her fingers still clung to the lapels of his suit, grounding herself in the only thing that felt real.

Vox's glow softened, his voice low and fragile. "After all this time," he murmured, almost to himself, "I didn't think I'd still remember how that felt."

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, though tears glistened at the corners of her eyes. "You remembered," she said. "That's all that matters."

He laughed — quiet, broken, reverent. His thumb brushed her chin, and he tilted his head as if to memorize her all over again. "You're still my best sin," he whispered.

Elvia's eyes closed at that, the ache in her chest deepening. "And you're still my favorite mistake."

For a long, suspended moment, the tower was silent — no static, no hum, no noise. Just them. Two ghosts, bound by something even Hell hadn't managed to erase. Then, softly, she said, "I don't want to lose you again."

He smiled faintly, almost human again. "Then don't."

The hum of the room seemed to shrink until it existed only around them, as if the rest of the tower — the neon glow, the flickering screens, even the air itself — had receded to the edges of reality. Elvia's hands trembled as she lifted them to touch his face, brushing along the faintly pulsing edges of his screen. It felt impossibly delicate, almost unreal, but grounding all at once.

Vox leaned in, slow and careful, giving her time to pull back if she wanted, but she didn't. She let herself melt toward him, letting the warmth of his strange energy seep into her, a tingling sensation that both startled and comforted her. Their foreheads touched, breaths mingling in the space between, her pulse hammering in rhythm with the faint electrical thrum radiating from him.

"You're... really here," she whispered, voice trembling. "I can feel you."

"I never left," he murmured back, his lips brushing her temple. His voice was soft but heavy with decades of longing and regret. "Even when you couldn't see me."

Her hands slid to his chest, feeling the impossible pulse beneath the tailored blue suit, the faint vibration that was both alive and unreal. Every inch of him felt like memory made flesh — or whatever passed for flesh here — and every second she stood there only intensified the ache of their lost time.

Slowly, he lowered his lips to hers, brushing them first with the lightest, most tentative touch. It was a soft, questioning kiss, filled with caution and reverence, as if afraid that any sudden movement might shatter the fragile bridge they were rebuilding. Elvia responded immediately, her fingers tangling in his suit, drawing him closer.

The kiss deepened, and the world beyond the room disappeared entirely. There was only the press of him against her, the soft hum of his energy under her fingertips, the warmth of decades of longing compressed into this single moment. She could feel the echoes of every memory — every stolen glance, every whispered promise, every night spent dreaming of a future they might never have — flowing between them.

His hands traveled slowly, reverently along her back, pulling her flush against him. The electric pulse along his skin mingled with the heat that rose in her chest, a strange, intoxicating mix of human and not. She pressed closer, letting the faint static crawl over her, grounding her in the impossibility of him, and yet in the undeniable truth of what they still were to each other.

Vox broke the kiss just enough to let their foreheads touch again, breaths coming fast, chests rising and falling in tandem. His eyes flickered faintly with the blue glow, catching hers like twin stars, and he murmured, "I never imagined... I could hold you like this again."

Elvia brushed her lips along his cheek, then the bottom of his screen, every touch a whispered promise. "I thought I'd lost you," she said softly. "I didn't think I'd ever feel this again."

His lips found hers once more, slower this time, savoring the taste, the feel, the electric spark of life and memory in one impossible form. The kiss was no longer just a reunion — it was an unspoken confession, a reckoning of all the love and longing that had persisted through years of absence and grief.

Hands roamed, softly, gently, memorizing each other all over again. Every second stretched, languid and heavy, filled with the heat of longing that had never really cooled. Time itself seemed to hold its breath around them.

And then —

The shrill trill of a phone rang through the room, tearing them apart with cruel insistence. Both of them stumbled back slightly, breaths ragged, hands lingering where they had just been pressed together. The screens behind them flickered, washing them in cold light as reality intruded, sharp and unwelcome.

Elvia bit her lip, frowning at the source of the interruption. "Velvette," she said, voice low, almost reluctant. The perfect, stolen world of the moment shattered, leaving only the ache of separation.

Vox ran a hand through the static at the edge of his head, exhaling sharply. "Always at the worst time," he muttered, though there was the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Even as she reached for the phone, both of them knew that the spark of what had just passed between them would not be so easily extinguished.

Vox hesitated a moment, his glowing eyes flicking toward the phone as if it were some foreign object invading their bubble. Then, with a sigh that seemed heavier than air, he reached for it.

"Hello?" His voice was calm, measured — the same clipped, charismatic tone he'd carried in life, now tinged with an electric edge that made it impossible to mistake for anything else.

Elvia's fingers clenched lightly at her sides, the heat of the interrupted kiss still lingering on her skin. Her chest tightened in a way she hadn't expected, the familiar ache of jealousy curling quietly in her stomach.

"...Velvette," Vox said, his voice softening ever so slightly. "Yes, I'm here. What is it?"

Elvia's gaze sharpened, a quiet edge of irritation creeping into her expression. "Who's Velvette?" she asked, though she tried to keep her tone neutral.

He glanced at her, just for a moment, a flicker of amusement — or perhaps guilt — dancing in his flickering eyes. "She... works for me. Sort of. Calls me about things, errands, schedules..." His words were casual, but Elvia noticed the subtle stiffness in his shoulders, the way his glowing form seemed just slightly taut.

"Huh," she murmured, arms crossing over her chest. "I see." Her voice was light, almost teasing, but the tension in it betrayed the sting beneath. The faint flicker of jealousy burned hotter as she watched him speak into the phone, hear his laughter, the easy familiarity he seemed to share with Velvette.

Vox's eyes flicked back to her for a heartbeat, catching hers as if to gauge the storm behind them. "Via..." he said softly, a quiet note of warning or reassurance in the tone, but it barely eased the ache that tightened her chest.

Elvia turned away slightly, fiddling with the edge of her skirt, forcing herself to calm down. She could hear the laugh — low, knowing, professional — coming from the receiver, and every second stretched her nerves thinner.

"Nothing serious," Vox said finally, after a pause. "Just... organizing some things." He ended the call with a soft click, the line cutting off like a sudden snapping thread.

Elvia's jaw tightened, and she gave him a small, pointed glance. "Sounds... friendly," she said quietly, her voice just above a whisper.

He laughed softly, a touch guilty, and stepped closer, brushing a flicker of static along her arm. "It's nothing, Via. You have nothing to worry about."

She looked up at him, eyes searching his glowing face, still unsettled. "Then why does it feel like she gets a piece of you I haven't even had in years?"

Vox shook his head, his smile softening, almost tender. "Because you have all of me, Elvia. Always. No one else could ever..." His words trailed off, but the intensity in his gaze said it all.

Elvia's chest loosened slightly, though the burn of jealousy still lingered. She pressed her hand to his arm, feeling the pulse of him beneath the suit, the familiar electric warmth that no one else could replicate.

"Good," she murmured, leaning slightly closer. "Because I don't intend to share."

Vox tilted his head, eyes flickering with amusement. "You'll have to say that again if you want me to believe it."

Elvia smiled faintly, leaning in just enough to brush her lips against his again — soft, insistent, reclaiming what had been interrupted. The static around him hummed faintly, almost approving, as if the room itself recognized the bond that no phone call could sever.

Slowly their soft kisses deepened into something more - their need for each other growing as their light touches turned into needy grabs. Elvia's hands ran up his chest as she slithered her hands around his neck, deepening the kiss further as she slowly slipped her tongue into his mouth. While Vox's hands trailed down her back, fluttering over the familiar lace trims around the waist of her dress as he wandered lower, widening his mouth as their tongues swirled around one other. 

The sound of his groans made Elvia's ears twitch in anticipation, as she smiled into the kiss. She let out an involuntary gasp as her eyes widened when he suddenly hooked his hands under her thighs and lifted her up. Elvia broke the kiss as she stared at him with wide eyes, her legs instinctively hooking around his waist while he looked down at her with a smirk on his face as he wandered over to his desk. Vox slowly set her down on top of it, standing between her legs as he continued to stare at her - his eyes flickering with lust as he let out a low groan. 

His voice was raspy as he leaned down, his face burrowing into her neck. "Fuck, I've missed this." His lips attached to her neck as he left light kisses along it, then slowly bit down, resulting in a small whine from Elvia as her ears twitched and her eyes fluttered shut, as he sucked at the flesh - twirling his tongue around the dark patch before continuing the process again. Her mind was swirling, caught between the warmth of him and the dizzying intensity of finally being this close again. Every brush of his lips, every subtle press of his body against hers, sent shivers through her. Her hands clutched at his jacket, pulling him closer as if she could fuse herself to him and make the years they'd lost vanish.

Slowly he pulled back, staring at her neck in awe, the array of dark bruises causing the strain in his boxers to grow tighter as his gaze drifted higher. Elvia had her head tilted back, her chest was heaving as sweat ran down her forehead, then she slowly opened her eyes as she peeked at Vox, the two of them staring at each other for a moment. Then, Elvia let out a small giggle, her shoulders bouncing up and down as she looked at the man in front of her, his head tilting in confusion as he stared back at her. 

Her voice was low, almost a whisper as she leaned forward, wrapping her hands behind his neck as she pulled him in, their lips grazing as they stared into each others eyes. "I can't believe your really here. Tell me your real, tell me I'm not imagining this, tell me your here with me." 

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the silence deafening. Then, Vox shuffled closer, pressing against Elvia as he gazed down at her, a small smile tugging at his lips as he wrapped his arms around her waist - pulling her flush against him. "I'm here," One of his hands slowly slithered up, tracing over her stomach before ghosting over her breasts. "I'm real." His voice was low, raspy as he slowly closed the gap between their lips, his claws clutching at her chest while Elvia let out small gasps and whines. 

Her own hands fell from his neck as she ran them over his chest, rubbing at his jacket as she tugged it off, allowing it to fall to the floor beside them. Her hands quickly found him again as one traveled lower, clutching at his belt as she attempted to unbuckle it, tugging at it before letting out a frustrated groan against his lips. Her other hand grasped at the belt as she tore it off, Vox letting out a pleased groan against her as he started tugging at her dress, signaling he wanted it off. 

Elvia harshly unbuttoned his trousers, reaching inside them as her fingers fumbled with the hem of his boxers, teasing him slightly as he pressed against Elvia harder, desperate for any sort of touch as he deepened the kiss further, his tongue slithering into her mouth. Just as Elvia's hand pushed past the confines of his boxers, the sound of a phone made her eyes blow open and her hands falter, retreating away from his boxers as she glanced down at the desk beside her. 

The sharp trill of the phone cut through the charged silence, echoing off the walls like a sudden crack of lightning. Both of them froze, the moment hanging between them, fragile and electric. Elvia's ears twitched slightly as she pulled back, her chest rising and falling quickly.

Vox groaned softly, a mixture of frustration and resignation, and stepped away just enough to let her breathe. "I—someone's calling," he growled, his voice low, the anger evident. 

Elvia's tail flicked irritably, a hint of jealousy flaring in her chest. She glanced at the desk where the phone rang relentlessly, her heart sinking at the sudden intrusion. "Go," she said quietly, her tone soft but carrying that unmistakable edge of possessiveness. "I'll wait."

He hesitated, reaching for the receiver, his glowing eyes flickering briefly to hers. "You sure?"

She nodded, though a small pout tugged at her lips. "Yes. Just... hurry."

Vox sighed, running a hand over his face, before picking up the phone. Elvia turned slightly, wrapping her arms around herself as she watched him, her mind a swirl of longing and irritation. She tried to push down the fluttering frustration in her chest as she walked toward the edge of the room, leaning against the wall and giving him space.

The room seemed colder without his closeness, the hum of the screens filling the quiet that had suddenly replaced their shared warmth. She chewed her lip, ears flicking at every word he spoke into the receiver, every slight pause in his tone.

Though they were separated by only a few feet and a ringing phone, Elvia felt the distance stretch between them like a tangible thing — an unwelcome reminder that the world could always intrude on the fragile bubble they had just reclaimed.

Elvia's ears twitched as she glanced at the clock on the wall. The hands were far later than she'd realized, the night slipping past them unnoticed in the haze of their reunion. Her stomach twisted slightly — the world outside their small bubble had continued moving while they'd been lost in each other.

"I... I should go," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She stepped back, putting a small distance between them. Vox's eyes flickered with a mixture of surprise and reluctance, but he let her hop off the desk, watching her retreating form with a scowl on his face.

Elvia pushed open the door to leave, her hands lingering on the frame. The room felt charged, like the air itself didn't want her to go.

"Wait," Vox's voice cut through, soft but insistent. She froze, half-turned, her heart skipping. He stepped closer, the faint hum of his energy brushing against her like a living thing. "You don't have to go back there. Not tonight. Not ever, if you don't want to."

Elvia's ears twitched, her pulse quickening. "I... I can't," she whispered, her voice tight. "It's late, and I need to—"

"Late doesn't matter," he interrupted gently, taking her hands in his. His fingers were warm despite the static that clung to him. "You're here, with me. Why leave now? We have time... we can—"

Her stomach twisted at the longing in his voice. "I can't, Vince," she said again, though a part of her wanted to collapse into him and forget everything else. "I have... responsibilities. Things to think about at the hotel."

He shook his head, leaning closer, his lips brushing the side of her temple. "None of that matters out here. Not tonight, not ever. You belong here, with me, just for a little while longer. Please."

Elvia closed her eyes, torn between the pull of him and the tether of the world she'd left behind. The memory of his touch, the warmth, the hum of him filling the room — it made her want to stay forever. But the reality of her deal, the hotel, her life waiting for her... it clawed at her mind.

"I... I can't stay," she said finally, her voice trembling. "I have to go back."

Vox's hands lingered on hers, reluctant to let go. "Then go," he murmured softly, though the flicker in his eyes betrayed how much it pained him. "But I'll be here when you come back. I'll wait, Via."

Her chest ached as she finally stepped away, leaving the warmth of his presence behind. She pulled the door shut behind her, the faint click echoing in the charged silence of the room.

Back at the hotel, Elvia dropped her bag onto the bed, curling into herself as the weight of the night settled in. Vox's words, his touch, the intensity of his gaze — they chased her into the quiet hum of her temporary room.

Elvia sank onto the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing the seams of the blanket as if grounding herself could somehow steady the storm inside. Vox's words, his touch, the way he had looked at her—everything about him burned into her chest, a reminder of what she had lost and somehow found again.

She closed her eyes, letting the memory of his hands on hers, the heat of his presence, and the soft rasp of his voice wash over her. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of staying with him, of letting herself fall into the moment and never looking back. Her body ached for it, for him, for the closeness they'd finally reclaimed after decades apart.

But then came the shadow of her deal with Alastor. The weight of it pressed on her chest, cold and unyielding. She couldn't forget that she belonged to the hotel now, bound by promises she couldn't undo. Every heartbeat that longed for Vox was a reminder of the consequences she might face if she let herself indulge.

Her hands tightened in her lap, nails digging into her palms. She wanted to run back to him, to leave the hotel behind, to let the world fall away and exist in the glow of his presence alone. But she couldn't—not yet. Not while the deal loomed over her like a cage.

A sigh escaped her lips, trembling with frustration and longing. "Why does it have to be like this?" she whispered to the empty room, her voice almost swallowed by the hum of the hotel. "Why can't I just... stay with you?"

Her heart ached with the answer she already knew: because the price of freedom, even for love, was higher than she could pay.

She buried her face in her hands, willing herself to think of something else, anything else, but her mind kept circling back to Vox. To the feel of his hands on her, the flicker of static along his skin, the way his eyes had looked at her like she was all that mattered in the universe.

Elvia leaned back against the headboard, eyes fixed on the ceiling, heart heavy with desire and regret. She could almost convince herself that she could sneak away, that she could find a way to be with him without consequence—but deep down, she knew it was impossible. For now, she was trapped. Trapped in her deal, trapped in her longing, and trapped by the memory of what she had found tonight and had to leave behind.

And yet... even as the weight of the hotel pressed down on her, the thought of Vox lingered like a spark. She would see him again. Somehow. She had to.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the hotel. One of Sir Pentious' eggs had taken it upon itself to tail Elvia earlier, skittering quietly from the hotel all the way to the Vee Tower. It had shuffled into Vox's office unnoticed, perching in a shadowed corner, and observed everything—the closeness, the whispered words, the stolen touches, the intimate scene. The entire encounter had unfolded before its unblinking eyes.

Now, back at Pentious' quarters, the egg wriggled nervously, flapping its tiny limbs as it reported the scene. "Sir Pentious! You won't believe what I saw!"

Pentious froze mid-gesture, his mechanical eyes widening. "What... what did you see?"

"They... they were in Vox's office! Very close! Whispering and... touching!" the egg squeaked, its tiny voice shaking.

Pentious staggered back, his gears whirring frantically. "In... Vox's office?!" His claws flailed, tail twitching uncontrollably. "No! This is... this is impossible! How... how could anyone—?!"

The egg nodded vigorously, unsure if it should run or keep reporting, while Pentious' mind scrambled to process the audacity of someone daring to get that close to Vox in his own tower.