** From now on, if you see these symbols:
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That means you may play the song for best feels if you are using the soundtrack **

Some hours later, the blonde demoness and her shadow companion remained hunched over as they scanned through various texts and indexes. Charlie's hair was gradually becoming frayed from brushing her hair back behind her ears repeatedly and blowing loose flyaways out of her face that had escaped from her ponytail. She sat on the edge of the round table while swinging her legs back and forth as she studied the page of the book in her lap. Otis laid down behind her on his abdomen across the table top as he read through a textbook as well.

Charlie let out a heavy sigh before her champagne eyes drifted to the open doors of the enormous chamber. 'He said he wouldn't take that long this time.' She squinted as she tried to catch the hue of the sky outside of the window. It was bloody red as usual. Even though her time in the library had not felt like an eternity like her first visit, she knew time flew when one was deeply absorbed into something. Her eyes wandered everywhere for a clock, but she did not see any.

Charlie pouted. It had to be around lunch time, and something told her Alastor did not keep a box of fruit roll ups in the pantry. Lunch was likely preprepared like yesterday, but she continued to wait.

Some time later she released a quiet yawn, then pulled the black, satin ribbon from her ponytail. Her messy, voluminous curls unleashed upon her back and across her shoulders. The sentence in her book had her stumped. The young blonde tucked the ribbon into the crease of her page and slapped the book shut. She then hopped down to her feet and stretched. Otis looked up and watched her skip to the open French doors with her book behind her back.

Charlie turned to him. "Can you help me find Alastor?" She asked politely. "I was hoping he could help with something..."

The shadow minion abandoned his spot and immediately appeared by her side. There, they began the long ascent on a set of polished, black staircases. Charlie grew tired after the first two flights. After the third, she had to stop to catch her breath. It did not help that her copious amounts of luscious hair kept falling into her face.

"H-how...how many more?" Charlie panted.

So far, she mostly used the stairs to go down, whereas Alastor teleported them to go anywhere that was a hike or whenever he felt like it. One thing was for certain: her legs would be noodles tomorrow. The blonde leaned against the wall for support by the top step of the flight they had just completed. "Just, uh...can you...can you get Alastor? I'm not ready to die twice," she exhaled before sliding to the deep red carpet. Otis nodded affirmatively, then disappeared up the next flight with a black streak.

Charlie's breathing slowed somewhat after a few minutes, so she got up to admire some the decorations on the wall. The sconces of this hall in particular were made of black obsidian—very fitting for an inhabited space in Hell. She brushed her fingers along the smooth, volcanic glass as she strolled further through the ornate corridor. Occasionally, she came across a narrow, golden end table against the wall with some sort of vase or pretty sculptures made of what looked like ivory. 'I wonder how he even gets material objects like these down here in a place like this?' Then again, Alastor was royalty.

After becoming lost in the endless amount of beautiful works of art, she realized she wandered around a few corners. Charlie whipped around in confusion at her unfamiliar surroundings, as if truly noticing them for the first time. She threw her head back and groaned while tugging her long hair across her face.

She was lost. Again.

It was when a soft creak was heard somewhere deeper into the thinning hallway. The young damsel curiously tipped her head to the side until she placed one foot in front of the other, then repeated. The obsidian sconces had ceased continuing down this path and were replaced with dimming, bronze candle holders that only supported a set of duo candlesticks that were a lively burgundy. They reminded Charlie of the shade of blood when it was beginning to dry.

As the hallway went darker, so did the atmosphere. Eventually, she discovered the source of the creaking. A black walnut door was cracked open and began to drift inward a bit. Charlie shivered, when out of nowhere, she picked up a chill in the air that had ran through all of her bones. "A-Alastor?" Her voice suddenly wavered some, sounding much more nervous than she intended.

She stopped in front of the doorway, carefully peeking inside in hopes of finding the eccentric stag demon. She was immediately greeted with an icy aura that made her skin crawl. Unlike the rest of Alastor's home, which had warm tones and a welcoming air full of life and music, this small constricting area had a bad energy. It was styled like a parlor, but it was much smaller than the one she visited multiple times. There was no room for a piano or any instrument—not even a radio was in sight, something every other single room had as a finishing touch.

Despite being a cozier sized space, it was anything but. The small fireplace in the back corner was unlit and empty, the charcoal drapes were pulled shut, and not a single candle had been used. On a ledge above the fireplace, a white feather duster was laid to rest under a blanket of dust layered wispy cobwebs, serving as proof the place had not been used in ages. Charlie was completely unaware she had even entered the room until she turned around. The only light entering was from the hallway behind her. She wanted nothing to do with this eery place that was tucked away, but her mind convinced her to explore anyway, like a toddler having an urge to satisfy their curiosity that could never quite be fully quenched.

Her gaze flicked to a glass case accented with the reddest Bloodwood she had ever seen. Inside, a single item was displayed as a centerpiece on a small pedestal of a platinum made snake intricately weaved within itself and around the small sculpture. The serpent glared daggers at Charlie ferociously with its beady little eyes of red garnet.

The demoness scrunched up her face with bewilderment. The display of the life sized, ivory apple she secretly touched had left a strange, soft residue on her hand after she returned it to its spot and quietly closed the glass doors to the cabinet.

Was it dust?

That was when she noticed the thin layer of it on her skin was what appeared to be an off white powder. Charlie shrugged and smeared it off on the side of her purple dress, unaware of the ghostly handprint it left streaked across the hem. Her laced boots cautiously shuffled across the dark hardwood floor. She gradually inched closer to what appeared to be a dusty framed photograph on a black coffee table.

The blonde no longer bothered to fight the curiosity bubbling inside of her. Her hands wiped off a portion of the thick layer of dust from the glass before her eyes widened with intrigue.

Her sight was met with an overly exuberant Alastor, who was accompanied with a fellow grey cat demon she did not recognize. The radio demon's arm was wrapped around the grumpy figure and had him yanked in so close to the point their cheeks were squished together. The cat was clearly not happy about his personal space being invaded, but if one could look closely enough, the most microscopic force was threatening to tug at the corner of his lips.

Based on the duo's slightly flushed complexions, it was not hard to tell they were under the influence. Alastor's entire energy in the picture appeared to reach new heights of glee with his eyes smiling as well, and for a moment, Charlie wondered what it would take to ever be able to make a grin like that grace his face.

Who was this supposed friend of his? And what had happened to make the King of Hell such an open, warmhearted man? The young damsel yearned to learn this secret as it started nibbling at the corners of her mind. She was almost jealous of this stranger beside him.

The demoness frowned. Her questions were only answered with more questions, but whatever this room served the purpose of, she clearly was not welcome. She began to reach for the coffee table again to return the old photograph, until she froze. Charlie was instantaneously as motionless as a statue when an abrupt chill slowly, and steadily, crawled down her spine.

The hairs on her nape stood on end after her gaze fell to the dimly lit floorboards from the sliver of the cracked door behind her—only to find that her shadow was not alone.

The shivering blonde's mouth fell open to suck in a sharp breath, but none came. She finally spun around and suddenly cried out when her nose was met with straight, darkened figure that was only a hair away. Glass shattered at her feet as she slowly, and shakily, lifted her gaze to meet a pair of glowing rouge eyes.

It felt as if they pierced Charlie right through her very soul. How they did not burn a hole into her, she did not know. What she did know was that these blindingly bright orbs staring daggers upon her were the least bit pleased.

"Get out."

Charlie could only stand there petrified as she held her gaze with the disgruntled figure looming over her. She tried to tear her eyes away, but was unable to. It was then, she discovered what true fear was.

"GET OUT!" Alastor hissed, the static growing thicker until his voice was completely distorted. The high pitched screeching only grew with the cloud of glitching radio waves emitting from his stance.

Charlie was ripped from her paralysis when her instincts screamed at her to cover her ears, but her legs were the first to respond.

Alastor watched motionlessly as her petite frame fled around the corner. His hands remained neatly folded behind his back as he took a gradual step forward then paused. The static around the radio demon died down when he bent over to brush his gloved fingertips along the pile of chipped glass. The glow in his eyes began to fade in the candlelight from the hallway where the door was wide open. Alastor gently tugged the corner to the photograph as the rest of the broken shards slid off. He silently sighed to himself, his gaze softening only for a mere second before he turned away.

His teeth ground themselves together until he cast his eyes aside from the memory. Alastor draped the picture carefully on the dusty coffee table. His expression became rueful before he summoned his staff and leaned into it.

It was not long before a terrified damsel found her room and locked herself inside, although that seemed pointless. The only reason she even found her room was sheer luck on her retreat of endless running. Charlie's feet ached like nothing else, and her uneven panting refused to stop as she collapsed to her knees in front of the door.

Then came the tears.

Her crying soon became ugly sobbing as she kept recalling their last encounter, even though it was the last thing she wanted to think about. The demoness smeared her reddened eyes and rubbed her nose on her sleeve as she went and crawled under her covers in her enormous bed. She buried her head deep underneath in hopes she would disappear from this awful reality.

She never meant to snoop or go where she was not allowed; she never even knew where she was until it was too late.

'What will he do to me?'

Charlie tensed. He was absolutely furious with her trespassing. She hardly knew Alastor, but he did look like someone that always knew what they wanted. If he wanted to do anything to her, he had the perfect chance. It was a helpful speculation, unfortunately, it did nothing to help her nerves.

Charlie continued to sniffle under her heavy blankets and later cried herself into a deep sleep.

Hours went by, and Alastor had not abandoned his spot in the chair beside the small table as his view remained fixed on the old photograph resting on it. An empty wine glass stood beside it.

A bad day was an understatement.

The King of Hell sighed audibly with static as he retrieved his gold pocket watch from inside his jacket. His focus drifted to the Roman numerals imprinted on the small clock. It was nearly five o'clock in the evening—almost supper time.

His eyes widened as he tugged the tip of one of his ears.

'Charlotte—'

Oh, how he had given her a horrible scare. He was not one quick to anger nor had a short temper. Just the opposite, as a matter of fact. But today was different in many ways. Otis had earlier fetched him to find his young guest, but he had discovered her in the last place he ever wanted her to be. The memories and the terrors all came flooding back like feelings of yesterday, and he unleashed it on her.

The telephone call earlier had him riled up as it was. The stag laid a hand on his face as he recollected the conversation with his ex-coworker. Her entire fate was slowly unraveling into an utter tragedy, and she was completely unaware. He was unable to protect her from harm, no matter what.

How was he ever supposed to tell her?

Alastor knew it was not her fault. Nothing was.

He stood and picked up his staff that was leaning on the wall. He would be the last being Charlotte would want to see. He stole one final glance at the time before tucking his watch away. He never even fetched her for lunch like he promised.

'She hasn't eaten anything since breakfast,' Alastor realized, almost ashamed of his ignorance. He sighed again, then made his way out of the cursed room. He was not yet prepared to face her, but he was not about to let her starve either.

While turning a corner in the corridor, the radio demon melted into a shadow, then rematerialized by Charlie's door. Alastor raised his hand to knock, but stopped himself before pressing his ear to it.

Silence.

He checked if his posture was straight, his head held high, but his smile remained meek.

'No, no, no, this won't do.'

If he truly wanted to resolve anything, it was necessary he did not appear dominating or threatening in his stance. She feared him now.

Like everyone else.

The idea of his blonde guest recoiling from his touch or cowering at his presence was enough to unsettle him greatly. The King of Hell may have taken immense pleasure in terrifying his evil subjects with his sickening antics, but Charlotte Magnes was the one and only exception.

Alastor's staff vanished. With a puff of smoke, his outfit changed into a red, pin striped vest with a maroon, collared, button up top underneath, accompanied with a black bow tie. His burgundy dress pants reshaped into slim fitted trousers. His gloves remained as he took a moment to remove his monocle and tie his hair up.

Alastor gave himself a nod of approval. There was no telling this would even work, but he could not afford to look the least bit menacing to her if he wanted to be welcomed in the same room with her. He breathed out and ran a hand through his bangs, then softly rapped the door twice. As he waited, he slowly rocked back and forth on his feet. Alastor made sure his smile was close lipped. He refused to risk baring his teeth at her in any way.

His ears lifted to attention when the lock unlatched. He was unaware of holding his breath until he exhaled. The stag softly gripped the handle, quietly pushing it open. The chamber was nearly pitch black. The heavy drapes were pulled shut, and not a single lamp or candle stick was lit. It was then, that Alastor noticed his eyes were brightly glowing again, but it was dark, so it could not be prevented. They were probably what scared Charlie above all else priorly, aside from his voice distortion.

Charlie's slouched figure was kneeled on the mattress with her back to him. He hoped she would not turn around or he would only give her another terrible fright.

"My, my, it's quite dark in here," he softly broke the silence followed with a dry laugh. "I hope you don't mind if I light the fire."

Alastor acted as if her lack of objection was a yes. He snapped his fingers, and the corner fireplace burst to life with a whoosh of warm flames.

Charlie lifted her head and acknowledged the fire as the warmth engulfed her. A few minutes passed as her host paced back and forth every now and then. She heard a throat clear as she watched the flickering flames. They were almost mesmerizing.

"I came here to apologize," Alastor stated, as he observed the fire as well. "I...lost my temper and took out other emotions out on you as well—none of which you ever deserved."

It felt strange. Charlie was not used to being on the receiving end of an apology. She was always the one who must say sorry or beg for forgiveness. She was always the one who must apo—

"It wasn't your fault."

Before she could stop herself, she rotated her head. She had never heard those words before.

"I know I told you to stay out of the east wing, but it's a large palace, and you were lost. For that, I am truly sorry for how I reacted. I behaved badly."

Charlie's eyes slightly widened when she saw how he was dressed. It was similar to the cute attire she saw him in when they were in the kitchen and eating breakfast together that morning.

His smile was mild and apologetic, and his scarlet eyes were filled with both regret and hope.

Alastor switched his focus from the fireplace and onto her. "I'm not asking for forgiveness, though I promise to never act that way toward you ever again." His gentle gaze did not lie, and his unusually soft demeanor along with his casual outfit unsettled Charlie for some reason. But this type of nervousness was nothing like earlier, in fact, it was quite the contrary.

Her stomach stayed uneasy, but rather than wanting to run, she wanted to come closer. Sure, he was a terrifying beast, but she learned that when she first met him during their gore filled encounter. Alastor had chosen to save her and take her in, which she was eternally grateful for. And his previous outburst was...admittedly harmless in comparison to what she partially witnessed him do. He had every right to be upset when she disobeyed him and pried through what appeared to be some very personal items.

Charlie may have had a reputation for being extremely naive in her past life, but she was also known for her endless faith, as well as her strong belief in second chances.

The fact that someone of his status had the gumption to lower himself and acknowledge his wrongdoings to someone meaningless like her was beyond touching. Alastor was the all powerful ruler of Hell, yet he treated her like royalty and gave her more respect than her own family ever did.

"I also apologize for my extended absence at lunchtime. It wasn't my intention to remain gone for so long, especially after I informed you otherwise. I was tied up in some rather pertinent business regarding your return to heaven."

This definitely caught Charlie off guard. Her mouth fell open. Alastor stiffened at the worry evident in her expression. He instantly held up his hands. "No need to worry! You're still going, my dear," he added. Watching relief wash over the demoness tied his stomach into knots. The fate awaiting her was nothing to be relieved about.

"But we'll talk more about that another time."

Alastor feigned a bigger smile, not entirely sure if he believed himself. "Now, I do deeply regret this afternoon, so I'll be quick to prepare you something for supper. I'll try not to make you wait this time, and I'll be sure not to disappoint," he vowed as his tone lowered a little, flashing her kinder smile.

The stag watched as she only blankly stared back. He released a soundless sigh as he folded his hands behind him in defeat. His feet carried him toward her open doorway with his usual confident stride. Charlie was tempted to say something—anything. But she remained unable to find her words. It was then, that she caught the smallest glimpse of the deer demon's vibrant ears beginning to droop forward.

Alastor gasped when a sudden embrace captured him from behind. He peered over his shoulder to see a mess of blonde curls buried into him. He could not have fought his wide signature grin returning if he tried. He reached his hand over his shoulder and gave her a light pat on the head. For someone who was once a mortal girl, she was incredibly tall.

The radio demon's ear tilted outward when he heard a whisper.

"I forgive you..."

He had never in his entire existence heard those words addressed to him. For some reason, it flooded him with a warm sensation. It felt...comfortable.

Alastor quietly chuckled, sending a pleasant vibration through Charlie's abdomen. "Mercí beaucoup, ma chérie." Charlie's face heated at the low hum of his radio laced tone, and a tiny smile was evident on her lips. She parted from the scarlet demon and shyly looked up at him.

"Well, then! I must be off to the kitchen and prepare something. Neither of us had eaten all day, after all."

Charlie's gaze lowered until her eyes stretched bigger. His tail was showing. The fluffy, little extremity was more adorable than ever. She held back a squeal when she saw it twitch. "I'll see you soon, my dear." And just like that, Alastor had vanished into thin air. The blonde almost frowned.

She only wanted to touch it. Just once.

Charlie squinted at her boots. Strange how they went from bad terms to their old selves within what felt like minutes. She beamed to herself at accomplishment.

'There's something about him...'

Alastor was hasty to start cooking. He absolutely hated the idea of making the poor dear wait any longer than she had. He rolled his sleeves up and removed his gloves before washing his hands. It only took a second to summon every material he needed. The stag silently scolded himself for not thinking to ask her what she would like to eat.

As he was whipping the ingredients together effortlessly with a whisk in a mixing bowl, his grin became somewhat peaceful. He had a feeling she might like it.

When everything was set on the table, Alastor hummed a tune to himself as he polished his monocle until putting it on. After dressing himself back up, he then teleported to Charlie's open doorway to call on her.

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"Oh, Charlotte!"

The deer demon raised an eyebrow once he realized her room was empty. The curtains were drawn, blowing in every now and then to expose the open sky beyond the ouvre French doors. He walked over to the master bathroom and stuck his head past the open entrance.

Alastor scratched behind his ear while exiting the blonde's bedroom and scanned the halls.

"Otis."

The miniature shadow minion appeared with a salut.

"Find Charlotte."

Otis nodded obediently and immediately vanished. Minutes had passed as Alastor roamed the aisles of the library, but no luck. He hurriedly arrived in his study, movements steadily growing frantic. His gloved hands caught the edge of the door and swung it shut to check behind it.

There was still no word from Otis or any of the other minions he had gathered.

He had every inch of the palace searched, but to still no avail. Alastor's eyebrows furrowed as his grin weakened. He snapped his fingers. His own shadow came to life and stood to attention with a signature wicked smile. It knew what to do as soon as its master's bony finger aimed through the door.

Once it left for its mission, Alastor ran a hand through his hair and ears. He did not understand. He knew she would not run away, because Charlie was smarter than that. Beyond the royal grounds, laid the rest of all Hell.

His eyes pinched themselves shut while he grit his teeth.

'It's not like she disappeared!'

Vibrant, illuminated orbs flashed open.

'They wouldn't...'

His heart hammered in his chest as he arrived at the demoness' room to search for clues. Alastor nearly stumbled his way over to her balcony, scanning the endless landscape of gardens beyond it. Of course, it previously occurred to him that she was likely lost. Again.

He thought of it numerous times. Still, distress tossed and turned inside of him. Something was amiss.

The stag finally checked the paths behind the palace outside. A huge labyrinth of rich green hedges and vine occupied most of them, and if she was not inside...he did not want to think about that. Without a moment's hesitation, he entered and began the hunt.

Near the end of the maze, a purely tuckered damsel exited into an open garden full of flowers. The blossoms were all in pink and red hues with the occasional blacks and purples to compliment them. Charlie sat on a stone bench to rest for a beat. All she wanted to do was explore the some of garden before dinner. The last thing she expected was to get lost in some flowers. The labyrinth looked nowhere that big from the outside, but it under a minute later when the young blonde was hopelessly lost.

"Gee, I'm surprised I got out of there on my own," Charlie exhaled. She turned to her left to admire a patch of bleeding hearts. They had bloomed into a dark onyx with red petals seeping from the bottoms. Red roses were the most abundant in the scenery around her. It was easy for her to guess they were Alastor's favorite.

The color schemes and polished obsidian pathways that accented the blood red sky would have given most demons dark or even sinister vibes—goosebumps at the least. But there was a type of beauty in all of Alastor's aesthetics. No matter how scary or solemn they were intended to be, it never denied the elegance of it all.

Charlie's eyes lit up when they landed on a tree in the center of all the flower beds. It was isolated, trapped with boulders of black marble carpeted in moss. The trunk was a deep burgundy that twisted out every which way. Tiny thorns sprouted from in between the polished bark, and small leaves of blindingly bright magenta grew everywhere.

The demoness' boots laid abandoned at the foot of the cracked rocks. The marble was cool to the touch against her bare feet as she ventured closer. Dark Spanish moss hanging from multiple branches occasionally brushed her forehead. The long, soft plant sort of reminded Charlie of a bayou.

Her focus returned to a lone, ripened apple that was just out of her reach. The red fruit glistened in the light and seemed to glow under the crimson sky.

Charlie had not eaten all day and had not known how hungry she was until it had first met her gaze. Her arm outstretched, straining her fingers for the fruit until she snatched it off the stem. "Gotcha!" She victoriously held the apple up with triumph. Climbing had never been her strong suit. The blonde sighed in content as she got comfortable on the boulders with her well deserved snack.

Meanwhile, Alastor whirled around in a corner of the maze when he felt his shadow's presence. "Did you find her?" He pressed breathlessly. The spirit wordlessly bonded itself back to him before he immediately faded into the silhouette of one of the hedges.

The radio demon materialized into his original form as he was brought to where Charlotte was in full view several yards away. His ears stiffened as his blood went cold. He remained frozen in alarm for a fraction of a second as he watched the oblivious girl pierce her fangs into the forbidden fruit.

Hey guys, sorry I've been a gone a really long time for some stupid reason I thought this whole story would be done in March since I had the entire thing mapped out already, but shit happened.

I hope to get on a more active schedule for updates now, I went through what was probably the worst part of my entire life with new meds and running out of old ones with new diagnostics it was complete and utter hell for me so you're going to have to put up with my crappy bipolar activity and I'm sorry about that but I promise I won't abandon this story :)

I've also rewritten the first half of this at least twice since wattpad's a little bitch now and deleted it repeatedly even though it said it was saved or my 'revisions' mysteriously disappeared which also contributed to my lack of motivation. So just decided to suck it up and pull through this last half last week since I was doing a smidge better so deal with the unrevised bits 😃

Vote or comment to support the story! Hope you liked! ;3

~Sapphire out