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❝ GOD AMONG DEVILS ❞

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It had been a few days since the little thing with Angel, so you signed yourself up to be a bit more efficient in fixing up the hotel. The chairs were a bit more stable now, and you were starting to get the hang of it. Everyone was grateful, but they also made sure to remind you to be careful. If you ever needed anything, they'd be there—but only if you asked.

Right now, you were in the middle of tidying up the bedroom you'd claimed for yourself, picking up after the chaos. You'd started testing out some star-speckled drawings you'd made when you were alive, your memories of the night sky still vivid in your mind.

Alastor suddenly appeared behind you, his wide grin almost glowing in the dim room. "What a darling portrait you've made," he said, his voice dripping with that signature charm.

You smiled back at him, tapping the portrait with a claw. "Yeah, it's a piece I made back home, before..." You trailed off, the memories of your old life a strange mix of clarity and fog. "I used to spend hours staring up at the stars. Felt like they understood me, you know?"

Alastor raised an eyebrow, looking at the sketch thoughtfully. "I can certainly see the beauty in that. You've captured the feeling of it perfectly. Such delicate work for someone with such sharp claws." He chuckled softly, and you couldn't help but join him.

He then raised his hand. "Well, why don't you and I go to Cannibal Town? There's a friend I'd like you to meet," he said, his voice smooth as always.

You stepped back from the wall and smiled. "Sure." You took his hand, and in the blink of an eye, you were standing in a completely different town.

The place had an eerie atmosphere, with pale-skinned people everywhere. A woman with wide hips approached you, her pale gray skin striking against her dark features. She had black lips and sharp, light pink teeth that seemed to glisten. Dusty-pink cheeks stood out on her face, and her white-and-gray hair had soft pink streaks running through it. Like all the residents of Cannibal Town, her eyes were completely black, with no irises or pupils. She had no visible nose, which made her face look even stranger.

She walked right up to you, smiling brightly, and tilted her head. "Well, Alastor, tell me it isn't you," she beamed.

Alastor's smile widened, his eyes sparkling. "It is, indeed. Darling, this is Y/N. They've been helping out at the hotel," he said with a smooth nod. "Y/N, meet Rosie. She's... well, she's familiar with the area."

You offered your hand to Rosie, and she eagerly took it. "Well, well," she said with a teasing smile, her voice playful, "I thought Alastor would never find himself someone, but I guess even I can be wrong." She chuckled, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Alastor's ears flicked at the remark, his smile never fading. You, however, couldn't help but grin at her teasing.

"I'm not his girlfriend, if that's what you're thinking," you said, a bit of humor in your voice. "I'm no one's really. Just a friend of his. I help the princess of Hell, that's all."

"Well anyway, you're welcome here, Ms. Y/N!" Rosie hummed with a wink, her voice dripping with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Now lemme show ya 'round this pretty lil' town!" She waved her hand dramatically, taking yours in a firm grip. "You're gonna love it here, sugar!"

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The town had a peculiar charm—bright, neon lights flickered from the towering signs, casting an eerie yet strangely inviting glow across the cobblestone streets. The air smelled of burnt sugar and cinnamon, mixed with a hint of something... a little less pleasant. The buildings themselves were a patchwork of dilapidated glamour, their walls painted in bold, clashing colors that seemed to hum with life. As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the cannibals hanging around—some chewing on bones, others staring at you with hungry eyes. Their teeth gleamed unnervingly in the light.

But Rosie? She was all confidence, her heels clicking sharply against the stone as she led you through the town. With a quick flick of her wrist, she sent a few of the more curious ones scurrying off, her voice dripping with charm. "Ah, don't worry 'bout them, sugar," she said, flashing a grin that could melt glass. "They won't hurt a hair on your head—unless I tell 'em to."

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, as if she enjoyed the thought of having that kind of power over these creatures. You couldn't help but feel both reassured and a little uneasy under her gaze.

You stumbled a bit as you made your way through the town, the cobblestones underfoot oddly slick as if they had a life of their own. A few cannibals were chatting near a dimly-lit alleyway, their eyes following your every move—one of them even waved a greasy hand and tried to speak, but before you could react, he was quickly shoved aside by a tall figure.

Rosie chuckled and shot him a look, her heels clicking with authority. "Oh, honey, no need to talk to that one. He's more mouth than brains," she mused, as if this were an everyday occurrence.

Just then, a new face stepped into your path—tall, with wild hair and a toothy grin, his eyes glinting like a predator's. He extended a hand toward you, but before you could take it, he swooped you into a hug, his arms firm but oddly comforting. "I hope you're enjoying the tour, yes, dear?" he purred with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You blinked, startled for a moment, then shook your head and shrugged. "Yeah, sure did," you muttered, a little disoriented but grateful for the distraction.

Your wing twitched, feeling a strange mix of warmth and tension in the air, and you turned to Rosie, your voice soft but sincere. "Thanks, Rosie."

With a lazy wave of her hand and a grin that was pure mischief, she shot you a wink. "Oh, don't mention it, sugar. You're here now, so enjoy the ride!"

Alastor gently took your hand, his smile stretching wider as his voice danced with mischief. "Let's go home, darling. I'm sure Charlie and Vaggie are absolutely dying of worry over you," he teased, his words a playful lilt. You couldn't help but laugh, nodding in agreement. His shadow, dark and stretching unnaturally, wrapped around you like a comforting cloak. With a sudden shift, the world seemed to bend, and before you knew it, you were back in the hotel foyer.

The sound of conversation drifted towards you—Angel was chatting with someone, his usual swagger on full display. As you turned your attention to the newcomer, your gaze landed on her: a tall, slender demon with pale, flawless white skin. Her figure was curvaceous, an hourglass shape that stood in stark contrast to her odd, cyclopean features. A single, large eye with an X-shaped yellow pupil gleamed at you, set against her sun-kissed coral sclera. Freckle-like spots dotted her skin like stars, while her long strawberry-blonde hair, streaked with platinum blonde, was pulled into a high half-ponytail by a black ponytail holder.

Her mouth curled into a wicked grin, revealing black lips and sharp, pale yellow teeth. She had tattoos all over her right arm—bombs, explosions, and swirls of intricate lines in coral ink. Her voice, dripping with sarcasm and mischief, pierced the air. "Well, well, if it isn't the princess's little pet," she teased, her single eye narrowing as she looked you up and down with playful disdain.

You sighed heavily, feeling the exhaustion from the day's tour settle into your bones. The chaos of the carnival town had drained you more than you realized. Without a word, you stepped away from Alastor, giving the woman a brief glance before walking toward your room. A long nap was exactly what you needed to shake off the weight of the day.

Alastor's voice followed you, soft and almost affectionate. "Rest well, darling," he called after you, his tone lingering like velvet.

You nodded, too tired to reply, and the door to your room swung open as you disappeared inside, the cool silence welcoming you like an old friend.