Charlie sat on her knees as she hunched herself over directly in front of the toasty fireplace. She had moved from her seat to the carpet for more heat. She was not wet anymore, seeing that the blood had dried and crusted, gluing her stiff attire to her skin.

The blonde's eyes wandered to a tall, black grandfather clock beside her against the wall. The thorny shaped hands told her it was six in the evening. By now, she was starving, worn, and beyond filthy. Charlie weakly dropped her head with a quiet sigh as her eyes fluttered shut. She was endlessly grateful for Alastor's hospitality. Just thinking about her time down in Hell so far was enough to give her an anxiety attack.

"-be ready in a bit."

Charlie tuned back to reality, not aware that she had zoned out. She jumped back and let out out a startled shriek at the ruler of Hell's sudden presence next to her. Alastor chuckled at her reaction and adjusted his monocle. She noticed the radio demon had a neatly folded pile of garments in his hand. "Apologies, darling. I was only here to let you know that supper was going to be on soon. I understand if you would like to freshen yourself up first, so I took the liberty of providing you a room. If you'll follow me," he explained, flashing her his huge set of golden teeth that would have sent most hellions running for the hills.

Charlie nodded meekly and accepted the outfit from him. Alastor's chivalrous nature then held out a hand to help her up, and the two left the parlor. The damsel trailed behind him as they wandered up a few spiraling staircases, which had ascended them above at least three floors. It was then, she discovered they were not inside of a mansion, but a palace.

The interior design was dark, majestic, and cold, yet the ambience and colors of Alastor's antique abode were warm and inviting. The blonde would have gone as far as saying it was comforting. During the long hike, the radio demon stole occasional glances of Charlie over his shoulder. Never in his extensive life had he encountered an innocent. It was Hell, after all.

The girl was becoming more and more intriguing to him by the moment. He was a sick, sadistic ruler that took pleasure in punishing the wicked, but to imagine that it was possible for a soul to be absent of evil was, well, inconceivable to someone like him.

The pair halted when they reached a door on the right side of the lengthy hallway. Alastor swung the tall door open to reveal a stunning master bedroom colored in every shade of red. The queen sized bed frame had elegant carvings along the wood and possessed four bed posts that extended through the air to hold a velvet canopy for blocking out the light. The room was like nothing Charlie had ever seen in her past life, and the awe of the furnishings alone were enough to make her forget about her god awful day.

Alastor extended his arm to the scene in front of them. "You're welcome to stay in here while we get this problem sorted, dear," he announced. "Let me know if there's anythi—" He was cut off as a stunned Charlie squealed in delight, shooting toward the fluffy bedspread and launching herself into the air. The deer demon found himself smirking at her childish behavior while she rolled herself into a burrito of soft blankets. It was quite strange to witness something so pure. The happy sight of her felt unnatural. Alastor tilted his head as he arched an eyebrow curiously.

When Charlie was finished with her burrito, she crawled out of the makeshift tunnel and smiled at him. A real smile. To know that he was able to give her one after a poor soul like her was wrongfully thrown into the pits of fiery Hell was rather gratifying. It was good to know he had not lost his touch, after all. He shook his head at the scene before reaching for the doorknob.

"Food will be on the table soon. I'll let you know when the time comes," Alastor informed her.

"Alright," Charlie chimed as he closed the door to give her privacy. She laid on her new bed for a moment, taking in the view of her surroundings yet again.

She sighed and picked up the stack of clothes Alastor had given her, then made her way to the master bathroom. She was not sure if she wanted a shower or a bath—though the thought of soaking in hot water after suffering an assault sounded very appealing.

Charlie immediately regretted her decision.

As soon as her bare skin submerged into the full tub, the water was clouded with crimson. She winced at the disturbing reminder and pinched her eyes shut. She slid down the porcelain on her back until her entire body was underwater. The deafening silence was calming as her blonde wisps of hair swirled around her. She was having a hard time accepting it—not Hell; that was more than real enough for her to believe.

But that she was dead.

Charlie did not feel dead, in fact, nowhere near it. The shock of it all hit her at last. She would never see her family again...neither her friends, nor her coworkers. Everything she had ever known was deleted from her existence. She was trapped in another realm—one she was never supposed to be in.

She was all alone, but this time, it was a reality.

She lurched upward as she broke the surface for air, gasping and coughing. How was she supposed to get through this? Her hands blindly reached for a clean towel draped over the edge of the bathtub before dabbing her eyes dry. Charlie thought how strange it was for the King of Hell to coincidentally pass by as she was attacked earlier that afternoon.

She shrugged off the notion. If Alastor wanted to do anything to her, he would have done it already. According to him, she did not belong there. So, why would he torture her? While she found expensive hygiene products lined up on a table beside her, her worries continued to plague her mind.

'But he's so kind...'

While Charlie proceeded to scrub the blood and grime off of her, she came to the conclusion her rescuer really was trying to help her, and that he was her only hope of leaving that horrid place. The troubled blonde lost track of time and was not certain of how long she had been cleaning up. Her starving appetite reminded her that the radio demon would be waiting for her in the dining hall. She reluctantly lifted herself out of the hot bath and stepped out onto the mat with a groan.

Her joints and limbs ached like nothing else. Charlie bit her lip as she wrapped herself in a soft, cardinal shaded towel, then wiped the steam off of the massive mirror with her hands. The sight that awaited her rendered her speechless. The girl in the mirror was as white as a ghost, had a black tipped nose, and coral pink clown cheeks that contoured her complexion. Her lashes were dark and long. So long, that they spread to the rim of the bone around her wide orbs. Her face was that of a skull's.

Charlie brought a trembling hand to her gaping mouth, then shakily peeled back her lip to reveal a set of fangs.

The second her shock dissipated, her face collapsed into her pale hands, and she wept. She was reborn a monster.

Sometime later, Alastor waited in his head chair at the end of an elongated dining table. His fingers slowly rapped the tabletop by his dish, for it was rude to eat before a guest's arrival. There was no need to worry over the meal cooling. After all, it was Hell, and the golden platters were enchanted. He mindlessly hummed a tune to himself as his eyes meandered about. The deer shifted his attention the sound of soft footsteps entering.

A small, horned shadow minion that he sent to fetch the blonde damsel was escorting her through the walkway from the corridor so she would not get lost. Alastor's vibrant crimson eyes studied her appearance up and down.

Charlie had pinned her light hair back in a unique way and let it rest down her back as it usually did in her past life. She wore a modest, yet formal, solid charcoal dress. It was a long sleeve that hid anything below her collar bone, and it hugged her figure from her shoulders to her knees. The minion had also provided her a pair of matching, leather, ballet flats with bows on the heels when it had come to her door.

Her eyes were mildly puffy as the shadow minion led her to an armchair at the other end of the table, then shifted it out for her. Charlie had her lips squeezed together as she cautiously took her seat. After her chair was pushed in, she clasped her palms together, about to ask to say grace, but when the black minion did not dare to stop watching her, she remembered where she was. How stupid of her to propose such a suggestion under the current circumstances, she realized.

'That would have been awkward.'

Charlie slowly picked up her fork. It was a fresh garden salad to start her out for the first course. It was odd for her to skip her daily thanks for dinner. All her life, she was repeatedly the one who prayed at the table in her family. The uncomfortable maiden's gaze traveled to the sadistic ruler's chinaware at the other end of the dining hall while he swiftly sliced through a thick steak with elegance.

"I hope my minion didn't startle you," Alastor began, keeping his eyes fixed on his plate. "They tend to have a mind of their own at times." Charlie sighed through her nose as she finished munching on a piece of lettuce. "It's okay," she mumbled. Granted that its arrival made her shriek, as to which, she had no idea what the shadow monster even was. "Splendid!" He chirped. "I hope you enjoy music as much as I do, because you'll be listening to lot of it around here." Alastor snapped a finger, and bouncy jazz played through the air. Charlie whipped her head around warily to locate the unseen radio. Her focus returned to the radio demon, who resumed his humming as he cut his steak. "Yeah, I like it," she answered with a sad smile, as if she was reminiscing.

Alastor noticed her distraught mood swing. Only an hour ago, she cheered up, for once. He chose not to address it. "Yes, it is a rather remarkable art, isn't it?" He carried on with enthusiasm. "I'm a huge fan of Sinatra and Armstrong. I have to admit though, one of my favorites would be Ella Fitzgerald." Throughout the rest of the meal, Charlie remained quiet as she listened to his chitter chatter of the one sided conversation, occasionally agreeing with or answering a simple question.

The lively music matched Alastor's attitude as he rambled like there was no tomorrow, but she did not mind, at all. The upbeat mood was exactly what she needed. He mentioned his love of the arts, theater, culinary cuisines, and so on. It was also impossible to ignore how often he slipped in a pun or a corny joke every now and then. Eventually, the servants had switched their platters for a second course. Charlie was presented with a delicious soup she never had the pleasure of tasting before, and Alastor had yet another steak.

The creamy broth almost melted in her mouth with a gooey cheese flavor and made her feel warm inside.

"How are you liking your meal, darling?"

Charlie met his gaze, and her lips reflected his large smile. "It's delicious," she responded warmly as she smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Wonderful," Alastor remarked with his fork in the air. The blonde lowered her gaze to her nearly empty bowl, her smile fading as fast as it came. "I never said thank you," she realized.

The deer demon slowed to a stop as his utensil drifted to his dish, his long ears straightening upward.

"For everything..."

It was something Alastor could not explain. He had certainly never been thanked before. Not once. He was not confident he had ever done anything that was worth receiving a thank you for. Of course, the King of Hell was polite, well put together, and a gentleman by nature, but this was still the underworld, after all. No one gave pleases or thank you's. Not ever.

It was beyond aberrant, but it was not unwelcome. When Alastor recovered, he immediately widened his grin. "It's no trouble at all, sweetheart," he laughed heartily. "Things are only temporary down here, remember? Now, smile, my dear! You know, you're never fully dressed without one!" Charlie raised her head, and a mild grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Atta' girl," Alastor chuckled before examining the next piece of meat on his fork.

Dessert was delicious furthermore—a tarte lemon meringue pie on the bittersweet side, but it was still to Charlie's liking. Once they had finished their platters, she appeared rejuvenated, yet the lateness of the day had left her additionally worn out. "Thank you for the meal," Charlie kindly repeated as she dipped her head in respect, standing up from her chair. "It was really good." As she reached for the dirtied dished out of habit, she gasped when a tiny minion swiped them away.

Alastor got up to his feet and laughed with a shake of his head as he went to exit the room, signaling behind him for Charlie to follow with a wag of his forefinger. She obeyed, then trotted ahead until she caught up with her host.

The pair continued to walk the halls while he spoke. "Dearie, you don't need to concern yourself with lifting a finger. I have a staff for that, and you are my guest. It would be undignified to have a lady work under this roof," he pointed out. "Your wardrobe should also be more extensive by tomorrow. We can't have you wearing the same outfit everyday, now, can we?" An unseen audience laughed at his so called humor.

Charlie lowered her view to the pretty dress she wore until her eyes drifted to her white hands. Her expression became dejected after she was reminded of her new appearance.

"Something has been troubling you all evening," Alastor stated, interrupting her thoughts. "I hope it wasn't the dress. You've constantly been checking yourself. Is it not to your liking? Perhaps, red is your taste?" With a puff of smoke, her outfit transformed to a bright scarlet. Charlie awed at her matching manicured nails before collecting herself. "No, it's not that..." She admitted.

"Ah! Maybe pink then! You do seem like a pink kind of gal, don't you?" His face lit up at the idea. Charlie furrowed her eyebrows. "What? I—" She jolted in place as her attire blinked to a coral pink that complimented her cheeks. She sighed loudly, and her shoulders sagged. Alastor stopped in his tracks, then whirled on his heel inquisitively. "It's...it's..."

She squinted at her forearms before pulling on her hair. "I'm a monster..." She bit her lip, fighting the tears that suddenly threatened to spill. "I'm horrifying, disgusting, and ugly!" Charlie hid her face as she fought the light sobs that escaped. She released a small sniffle and uncovered her damp eyes when a hand laid on her shoulder. She met Alastor's empty, red eyes. It was the first time she was able to catch the dark circles of many sleepless nights under them.

"Don't be ridiculous, my dear," he chimed in. "You're far from hideous." He gestured to her entire petite form. "If anything, you're a charming, demon belle!" Alastor added. "Now, wear a smile. Everything will turn out just dandy!" Charlie's orbs enlarged as his hand pinched her cheeks, forcing her lips into a smile. Although his red tipped, black gloves concealed his fingers, she could still feel a pair of sharp nails underneath. Her cheeks stiffened under his touch as he saw her bite back a silly grin. Pleased with his small victory, he folded his hands behind his back and proceeded on his path through the hall.

With the charming, demon belle following him, they reached her bedroom within the next few minutes. The radio demon held the door open for her while she gradually strolled in.

"Well, I'll leave you to retire for the night! If you ever need anything, knock on my door," Alastor cheerfully informed the blonde, gesturing to a set of French doors that were approximately five meters from hers at the end of the damask corridor. "I'm nearly always up, so no need to be shy of the time." Charlie nodded as she looked up at him. "Alright. Is there...a certain time breakfast is ready? Or should I just—"

"Don't concern yourself with that," he brushed off. "The food here is as hot as hell, so everything will be in order!" He threw a hand to his chest and added a goofy laugh to his joke.

Charlie uttered a snort before she could stop herself. Alastor grinned with satisfaction at her amusement. He then dramatically bowed to her and gave the back of her hand a peck. "Bonne nuit, dear." She faintly blushed after withdrawing from the abrupt action, a bit caught off guard. "G-good night...your highness?" Charlie stammered out as it finally occurred to her that she had no idea how to address him. Alastor bellowed a laugh filled with static, and hastily waved his hand, combined with a sudden shake of his head. "No, no, no, no, there's no need for that! I only go by Alastor, personally."

"Oh. Well, good night, then, Alastor," she corrected. Before she could shut her door, he had already spun on his heel toward his chambers with a curt nod. Charlie plopped herself onto her bed until she exhaled heavily, then spotted a pink, satin night slip. She unfolded it, then raised it up to her body. It was a spaghetti strap that almost reached her knees.

After changing into the pajamas, she did a double take when she caught her reflection in a French, full lengthed mirror across from her bed. She cluelessly tapped one of her cheeks. There was a white bandage over her cut.

'When did that get there??'

The sensation of Alastor's nails continued to prickle into her cheeks from when he had her face in his grasp. It was not painful, but it was a firm enough grip to leave a fraction of the feeling behind for a little bit. The damsel sighed for what seemed to be the millionth time that day and drew the canopied curtains around her framed bed shut, finally sliding underneath of her soft covers. Despite being trapped in the most torturous place in time and space, for the first time in her entire existence, she felt truly secure in her new bedroom inside of the toasty palace.

Alastor had claimed it was all temporary until her situation was fixed. If her stay was going to be as brief as he implied, perhaps things would not be as awful as she thought.

Wow, can't believe I updated two days in a row, I almost feel like my old self again! Anyway, let me know what y'all think in the comments. I personally can't wait to see where this goes. Hope you liked!

~ Sapphire out