Chapter Text
Alastor was sitting down in a cafe, reading Hell’s most popular newspaper. His breakfast was finished, but he was taking his time sipping his second coffee and pouring over the news in search of pertinent information to plan his future.
So far, Hell was a disappointment. Alastor was hoping he would be done with all the trivialities of life once he would be dead. To have to find a place to live, earn money, eat three meals a day and, above all, sleep, was vexing on a whole new level.
Alastor woke up here a week ago, but he was still in the process of establishing himself, let alone grow his power. He was working in a tailor shop as a clerk to afford the miserable one room apartment he rented. There were a couple radio stations around, but he had yet to reach out to any of them. Establishing his radio show should have been his first priority, but, alas, feeding himself and finding shelter had to take precedent.
Hopefully, once his show would be taken care of, he could finally get started on his real plan for Hell domination.
In the last week, Alastor killed a couple sinners to find relief, but was quite disappointed when they came back to life. Since then, he had been looking for ways to deal permanent death. All he heard so far were whispers of angelic steel, but he was yet to put his eyes, let alone his hands, on any of it.
It was foolish to expect this newspaper to hold all the answers to his many pressing questions, but perhaps it could point him in the right direction. It never hurt to be informed either way, even if he had to dredge through all that garbage.
There were too many ads in this newspaper, and they all seemed to promote some sort of sex scheme, but it was unfortunately the best one in the city. As tacky as the writing style was, there was no denying every news came to The Daily Fix first. It wasn’t always accurate, but, with enough people reading it, it became the truth.
Alastor almost skipped that fateful advertisement too. What caught his attention was the wings.
Pausing, he detailed the drawing. There were six wings. Their top were pure white, but all their feathers were crimson, dripping down like blood. Alastor glossed over the character’s chest to see his expression. With his mouth opened in a cheeky grin, he had a forked tongue poking between two fingers in a suggestive pose.
Alastor was drawn to his eyes. The black pupils were vertical, his irises a bright red, and the sclera a blinding gold. They were looking straight at the reader with haughty humor.
The character’s skin was white, his hair platinum blond, and he was wearing a bright white suit that clashed with what Alastor had seen of Hell’s fashion trends. Red and black were popular, as you would expect, but pink was also everywhere, since it was the color of lust. Such a pure white was basically unheard of, and gold was used with parsimony to signal wealth, not with such extravagance.
It all made sense when his eyes read the first line of the ad: The Devil wants you!
There was more text underneath, but, before reading it, Alastor’s eyes moved back to that smug face, specifically the crown on top of his head. It was golden, with red rubies enhancing it.
A King’s crown.
Was that drawn character a representation of Lucifer? Alastor knew next to nothing about him. Sinners were afraid to speak his name, let alone gossip about him. That fear only piqued Alastor’s interest more, but information remained sparse.
Expectantly, Alastor read the ad in its entirety.
Are you tired of lacking power? Do you wish you could kill your enemies with barely a thought? You’re in luck, because the Devil is recruiting again! You read that right, folks, Lucifer, the King of Hell, needs your help to enforce his diabolical reign! Do you have what it takes to become his executioner? Come to the palace next Saturday and find out if you’re the right fit for his Majesty!
Alastor looked at the front page to check the date. It was Monday. He had less than a week to figure out what being Lucifer’s executioner entailed.
Coming back to the ad, he tried to find more information about the offered position, but there was nothing helpful. He stared at the condescending red and golden eyes for a long time, deep in thoughts.
In his life, Alastor had been a serial killer. There was a specific kind of target he enjoyed taking down: the powerful. It was better if they were rude or racist, but, to be fair, they always were. Men in power couldn’t help but look down at someone like Alastor, all because of the color of his skin.
It used to frustrate him, but he came to relish in it. Nothing felt better than killing an old white man who thought himself untouchable.
Alastor chuckled. Lucifer was the oldest man he had ever seen, and there was no doubt he thought himself invincible with all that power at his fingertips. Taking him down would be the sweetest release Alastor could imagine.
While he read the rest of the newspaper to not miss any important news, his mind stayed on that ad. He already knew he would be there on Saturday, but he needed more information. It paid to be prepared.
Later, at work, he waited until he was alone with his coworker to ask nonchalantly, “I read in the Daily Fix that Lucifer is recruiting an executioner.”
From the corner of his eyes, he watched the rabbit sinner flinch. “Forget it, man, it’s not worth it.”
“I’m simply curious,” Alastor insisted.
Suggestively, he flicked the rabbit’s ear. He might not be attracted to anyone, but he knew the signs of arousal well, and he wasn’t above using his charms to get what he wanted. He figured this sinner was a rabbit because he couldn’t help his lust. Alastor had seen his eyes trail down on every customers walking in, and it seemed he only refrained from making an approach when he was too scared to die. Even then, he sometimes pushed his luck way too far.
It made Alastor shudder every time he felt his dirty eyes on his ass, but he was careful not to let it show. He never engaged with his interest until now, keeping a safe and cordial distance from his hands. He knew he could defend himself if the rabbit got any ideas, but he was trying not to come to that point. He would no doubt lose his job if he killed his coworker in the store, even if his incessant humping of everything (or anyone) in his sight apparently wasn’t grounds for firing.
The rabbit jumped on his feet, already excited by Alastor’s touch.
He tried to appear reticent, but his tone betrayed his eagerness. “I don’t know much about it, but it’s all bad news, I can tell you that much.”
“Tell me what you do know,” Alastor intimated him. He patted his head in a condescending manner, making the rabbit moan.
“The devil made a deal with Heaven to kill a hundred sinners every year. If he doesn’t, they’ll come down and exterminate us. L-Lucifer has the power to erase sinners, but his punishment for defying Heaven is that he can’t harm sinners himself. He needs an executioner to sell their soul to him in exchange for his power.”
Alastor pinched his cheek to reward him. “That was very useful, thank you.”
Despite his lust, the rabbit sinner’s face became serious. “It’s not worth it, Al. Nobody lasts long in that job. Nobody,” he emphasized.
If he was willing to drop his smile, Alastor would be scowling. “Let me be the judge of that.”
“It’s your funeral, man,” the rabbit insisted. Becoming horny again, he asked, “If you’re planning to resign, can I–”
“No,” Alastor interrupted him, firmly but with a bit of teasing in his tone. “I’m afraid this,” he gestured at himself, “is not up for sell.”
“Aw man,” the rabbit complained.
To find relief, he went to hump the cash register. Wordlessly, Alastor moved to the other side of the store.
In the following days, he mulled over all that information.
Selling his soul would be a risky gamble. There were two ways to break a soul contract: either kill the person you made a deal with, or make them break their own terms. From what he heard, when one of the two parties didn’t respect their part of a contract, they lost all they gained while the other kept their advantage.
If you played your cards right, and made sure to put in a good loophole, you could gain everything while losing nothing. Of course, not all contracts were easily breakable, which was another reason why Alastor desperately needed a way to deal permanent death. He should never be out of options.
Alastor assumed Lucifer had been using sinners as executioners for a long time. If one of them ever found a loophole to nullify the contract, he would have been sure to rectify it for the next one. Alastor didn’t think he could count on that slim possibility to save himself from an eternity of enslavement, or, as his coworker hinted at, certain death.
He would have to find a way to kill Lucifer before his own time came. Others must have tried before him, but they didn’t have his wits or tenacity. He spent his entire life proving no one was untouchable. Killing the Devil would be the ultimate proof of his cunning.
His magnum opus.
The ad was in the newspaper the next day. Alastor detailed Lucifer’s wings again, his smug face, the gold in his eyes. He was as bright as the bible described him. Lucifer was the light bringer. He might be fallen, but he retained most of his Heavenly attributes, except for his scarlet wings. It was hard to imagine an angel would have feathers the color of blood. He must have gained them when he lost his halo.
Alastor only noticed he was salivating when his spit fell on Lucifer’s face. He cleaned his mouth with a napkin, then took a sip of coffee. He had to be careful not to let his desires get the best of him. Lucifer might be the embodiment of all he loved to sully with blood and death, but he wasn’t his to take yet.
Alastor had his work cut out for him.
Wednesday was his day off. He had planned to use that time to appeal to the most popular radio station, but being a radio host wasn’t part of his plans anymore. He was focused entirely on becoming the next executioner.
Alastor lurked around town, listening in to all the gossip unseen. He caught some conversations, but none that were useful.
Tired, but not ready to give up yet, Alastor sat down in a park. In front of him loomed a statue of Lucifer, big enough to block out the sun, if there was one. It was made of pure white marble, with an impressive amount of details. His extended wings and threatening pose would make even the biggest of sinners feel like an ant under his boots, and yet there was something beautiful, almost hypnotic, about him.
Alastor yearned to scratch out his dominating expression, pull out his golden eyes to have a taste. He wanted to pluck his feathers one by one and tear his wings off. He would finish him off by slitting his throat, painting all that white red.
Alastor was lost in his murder fantasies when he caught the tail end of a conversation nearby, “–mine has the best stuff!”
“Sh, someone might hear us.”
“Pff, relax! If they try to attack us, we can just...” they made a stabbing sound.
“Stop! Do you want everyone to know we have angelic steel?”
Alastor stood up, smiling wide. The two sinners were on the other side of the statue, speaking loudly about their precious cargo without a care in the world. Using Lucifer’s statue as a cover, Alastor studied them. One was a butterfly with beautiful pink wings, the other was some kind of canine. It was the latter who was waving the weapon around, a silver knife with an intricate handle. It was a bit short to Alastor’s taste, but it would do.
Quietly, Alastor approached them from behind. With a flourish, he pretended to trip and fall to his knees. The dog turned to him like planned, bringing the knife within reach.
Grabbing his wrist, Alastor squeezed as hard as he could. The sinner let out a shocked scream and opened his hand by reflex. Quickly, Alastor grabbed the knife before it fell to the ground.
The rest was easy. Using his new knife, Alastor slit both of their throats. Once he was done, he sat down at a new bench. He waited, drenched in their blood, to see if they would wake up.
They didn’t. Alastor waited until nightfall to be sure, but they were well and truly dead. Looking up at Lucifer’s back, all of his wings waiting to be clipped, Alastor could do nothing but laugh.
He gave his letter of resignation Friday evening. His coworker tried to get in his pants one last time, but Alastor granted his own wish and finally killed him. However, as a courtesy, he didn’t use the angelic blade. Apart from all his humping, the rabbit sinner had been a decent coworker, and he did give him the information he needed.
Alastor woke up Saturday morning in an amazing mood. Excited, he left all of his belongings behind, fully expecting never to come back to this shitty hole. He didn’t have a clear plan to catch Lucifer’s attention, but he could count on his capacity for improvisation. He was a talented entertainer if nothing else.
Everyone seemed to be going to the same destination as him. Alastor got lost in the crowd, but he didn’t let the huge turnout deter him. From the conversations he heard, a lot of people came only to watch, but it wouldn’t matter if there was a lot of competition. Nobody was more resourceful and determined to get this job than Alastor.
He would not let that new appetite of his go unsatiated.
The gigantic gates leading towards the palace were wide opened. Without surprise, the palace was made of marble. It seemed to glow compared to the dark architecture surrounding it. The front garden had ponds, bushes, flowers, all of it showing off wealth and royalty. There were numerous statues of Lucifer everywhere he looked, but no one else.
Not a lot of Lucifer’s life was known to sinners. The few people Alastor made talk told him the same information he already knew. If he had a spouse or children, nobody was aware of it.
They were led inside the palace by an impressive amount of guards. The interior was as blinding as the exterior. The walls were all white, and the only decorations were either gold or bright red. It was almost impressive how everything shined, to the point of hurting Alastor’s eyes.
The crowd made its way through a long empty corridor. At the end of it were opened doors leading to the throne room. Alastor passed its threshold with the rest of them, excitement making his steps lighter. He hated the architecture of this gaudy palace, but it did signal an untold amount of wealth and, more importantly, power.
A lot of his competitors were taken in by all the riches surrounding them. It made him wonder if being an executioner came with a salary. He assumed he would be living in the palace, which would hopefully mean money wouldn’t be a problem for him anymore. If not, having the title of executioner and the power to kill people would surely make anyone comply even without the cash.
The throne room was big and empty, except for pillars and, of course, the throne. There were a dozen stairs leading up to it. Alastor had no idea how tall Lucifer was, but he would imagine a king would not take kindly to being looked down upon.
Alastor had to strain to see, but he was pretty sure Lucifer was already there, lounging back in his throne. He was flanked by a couple people, but, from his bad vantage point, it was hard to tell if they were sinners or Hellborn. He would imagine they were Hellborn. One thing that was famously known about Lucifer was his aversion to sinners.
It must not have been a hardship, to strike that bargain with Heaven.
The one thing Alastor could see well made him pause. Above the throne sat a board made of pure gold with ornate borders. On it was written the number forty seven. The number glowed in pure white, but, despite the golden background, it was easy to read. It was big enough to clearly see from the entrance to the throne room, almost obscuring the throne underneath it.
It didn’t take him long to figure out what those numbers meant. The only question was if they counted the number of sinners killed this year or how many were left.
Alastor was relieved when a loud voice boomed, “Silence! The King is ready to take applications now. Anyone who desires to offer their lives, step up.”
With a hop, Alastor took a step forward, then another. The guards made them kneel in five different lines. He settled in the second one from the front. The ground wasn’t very comfortable, but Alastor was grateful they were forced to sit. He had a far better view of the throne now.
Lucifer looked like his drawing and many, many statues. Sitting back on his throne, legs wide opened, he had his head tilted back. The crown sitting on it blended with his hair, as if it was part of his body. He had a cane with him this time, golden with a red apple for a knob. He was rubbing the fruit suggestively, his smile bored and his eyes oriented towards the ceiling.
His wings were draped behind him like a cloak. Alastor had been wondering why he didn’t wear a cape, since it was part of any good royal outfit, but of course his wings were far more impressive than any amount of fabric could be. They were so long they surpassed the top of the golden throne, even if it was at least twice as tall as Lucifer himself. They almost, but not quite, reached the death count.
There was no denying he was the King of Hell.
Alastor chuckled in his hand. He couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he would ruin all that precious white and gold.
Finally, Lucifer spoke.
“Alright, bitches, show me what you got!”
It wasn’t what Alastor expected, for a lot of reasons. First of all, he imagined he would have a dated speech, considering his age. It wouldn’t have surprised him if he didn’t speak and let his servants talk for him. To hear him utter such familiar words, and in an incredibly casual tone, clashed with the tension he had built so far.
The first in line stepped up. Alastor looked as the shark sinner humiliated themselves by insisting on their mediocre prowess. Lucifer didn’t let them finish before he waved his hand and called, with a bored voice, “Next!”
Alastor didn’t pay much attention to the others’ attempts. He kept his eyes on the king instead. Lucifer slouched on his throne further and further as he dismissed everyone, yawning loudly. Before long, he turned to sit sideways, his legs kicking over the armrest.
As he called for the next participant, he made his cane disappear and summoned a rubber duck in its place. He didn’t look up at the next few applicants at all, playing with his top hat wearing yellow toy, making it squeak and mouthing noises at it. Alastor’s competitors were the ones who had to dismiss themselves.
Clearly, Lucifer was bored out of his mind.
Alastor laughed in his hand again. He loved words, but he was a man of action too. If Lucifer wanted entertainment, he would give it to him.
When his time came, Alastor stood up. Instead of walking up to plead to the king, he stepped behind the next sinner in line. Grabbing them by the hair, Alastor pulled out his angelic knife and slit their throat. He didn’t give them time to scream.
It was fastidious work, but he was able to saw his way through until the body fell down, disconnected from its head. Smiling, Alastor put his knife away and walked to the bottom of the stairs. Nobody tried to stop him, but the royal guards eyed him intensely, spears at the ready. Alastor assumed they were made with angelic steel, although he wasn’t ready to test it.
Lucifer was still entertaining himself with his duck, completely disconnected from what was happening.
Discreetly, Alastor looked up at the death count. Forty six. One less. The board showed how many remained to die.
Interestingly, Lucifer’s deal with Heaven didn’t specify the sinners had to be killed by his power. In less than a week, Alastor had already contributed to three deaths out of the hundred needed. One more proof that he deserved this job more than anyone else.
With a good throw, Alastor landed the head on Lucifer’s lap.
“What the fuck?” The king screamed, looking down at his lap. The duck disappeared from his hand, which was a victory all of its own.
“I merely wish to keep you entertained, my king,” Alastor spoke up.
He had planned to kneel down, but, when Lucifer’s eyes landed on him, he felt his knees lock up. He had a feeling being cheeky would work in his favor, but he had to admit the main reason was far more visceral.
Lucifer studied him intently, his eyes burning Alastor’s skin. Without showing one ounce of disgust, he took the head by the hair, but it wasn’t to contemplate it. Instead, he slowly stood from his throne, his wings fluttering behind him.
Once he was on his feet, Lucifer threw the head back at him. By reflex, Alastor caught it.
Sporting a crooked smile, the king walked down to him in slow, deliberate steps. He could have flown, but he used his feet instead, all of his wings extended to show his superiority. Alastor stared, refusing to call the feeling in his chest awe.
Without meaning to, he let his hands fall down at his sides. When the head landed on the floor with a soft, wet thud, he didn’t so much as glance at it.
Lucifer stopped close enough to touch him. Now that they were on the same level, Alastor realized he was a good foot shorter than him. However, his diminutive size didn’t matter when his wings were so immense. Each pair could engulf him twice and still have enough room for more people.
“I like you,” Lucifer confessed.
Before he had time to revel in his success, Alastor was kissed.
Lucifer pushed his body against his hard enough to make Alastor gasp. He used that opening to slid his forked tongue between his lips. His hands traveled up his shoulders, to caress his deer ears, then down his back. They stopped on his ass to fondle it with so much force Alastor felt himself being lifted off the floor.
Meanwhile, his tongue was traveling his mouth like he was ice cream melting under the sun.
Before Alastor could decide if he wanted to reciprocate, Lucifer pulled back with a pop. He licked his lips in satisfaction. All Alastor could do was stand there as Lucifer let go of his ass and touched the ground. It made Alastor realize he had been flying to be at his level.
Lucifer flew and he was too close to see any of it. Alastor sure hope he would get another chance to see those wings in action sometime soon.
“Your ass is sweet too, I bet it’s tight,” Lucifer added in a pleased tone. “Yup, I choose you, everyone else can get the fuck out of my palace.”
There was a charged silence. Lucifer broke eye contact to look at the rest of the crowd.
“I said...”
Alastor stared as Lucifer’s entire appearance changed. All the white on him became black, and the gold turned to bright red. His skin was a dark abyss, his limbs nothing but void tentacles, making his red eyes that much more striking. He had horns on his head with red tips, and a tail swinging behind him. His wings were black too, making the red feathers look so much more like blood.
He had been looking at the fallen angel until now, but this, this was the Devil.
“Get the fuck out of my palace!” Lucifer repeated, his booming, all encompassing voice distorted by his power.
Alastor heard the sinners scrambling behind him, but he couldn’t move his eyes away from Lucifer. He desperately needed to stain the white version of Lucifer in red, but this dark one gave him an urge he never felt before. He wanted to see blood on his hands. Alastor yearned to watch Lucifer kill the hundred sinners he was tasked with eliminating with those too long, bent at wrong angles, fingers.
He was hit with real disappointment when he remembered it wasn’t possible. Even as this monstrosity of darkness and feathers, Lucifer couldn’t harm sinners. He wouldn’t need an executioner if he could.
Lucifer changed back to his normal appearance. Alastor couldn’t help a small noise of displeasure, but, if he heard it, the king didn’t acknowledge it.
With a bright smile on his white as snow face, Lucifer cupped Alastor’s cheek, caressed his lower lip with his thumb and asked, “What’s your name, pretty?”
“Alastor,” he answered. To his dismay, his voice caught in his throat.
“I’m gonna call you Al,” Lucifer decided.
Patting his cheek patronizingly, he pulled back and snapped his fingers at someone without breaking their eye contact.
“The contract!” He ordered impatiently.
Some imp brought it to him. Lucifer snatched it and pushed it in Alastor’s chest. “Don’t bother reading it. You won’t make it out of here alive if you don’t sign it.”
Alastor swallowed. “Isn’t the whole point that you can’t kill me?”
He expected him to become angry at the reminder, but Lucifer only smiled in a mysterious way. “I can’t, but he will.”
Alastor didn’t have time to ask who he was talking about. Another imp pushed a pen in his hand. He pulled back the contract, but there was too much information for him to read it in its entirety. He tried to skim it as much as he could, but only one detail caught his eyes. It was a pretty big loophole, making him smile wider. It wouldn’t help him get out of this deal, but it would afford him a lot of freedom.
Without waiting further, Alastor apposed his signature on the dotted line. A golden collar appeared on his throat, with a chain going all the way to Lucifer’s left hand.
The deal vanished in his hands, and the chain became invisible. Alastor was hoping he could read it later, to see if he could find other loopholes, but he was satisfied with what he caught so far.
Alastor could feel Lucifer’s power thrumming from his chest to his fingertips. He took a step back and looked down to see a black and red mic materializing in his right hand. As he moved the mic around, he felt shadow tentacles poking out of his back. He quickly realized he could manipulate all the shadows in the room, as well as use sound waves.
He expected to gain the same powers as Lucifer, but it adapted to him instead. It was clear why, as a former radio host, he had powers related to sound, but he wondered if the shadows were supposed to symbolize his serial killer vocation.
Alastor was moving his shadow tentacles around when he heard someone else walking in through a back door behind the throne. He turned to this new coming person in time to catch Lucifer appearing next to him. The king leaned in to speak in his ear, but Alastor could hear his whispering with his newfound power.
“I’m sorry I have to do this to you, but you know people were starting to doubt you. I love you, Husky, never forget that.”
The sinner had the appearance of a cat with wings. He was dressed in a tuxedo, like a magician. It became clear he was looking at the previous executioner when Lucifer appeared his leash to pull him closer and kiss him passionately. Alastor stared at this show of passion, something ugly taking hold of his heart, possessive and jealous and dangerous.
“I love you too, Lucifer,” the cat confessed back. He sounded like he meant it. “I can win anything if you believe in me.”
“Kill him, my love, and we’ll be back together in no time,” Lucifer promised with one last lingering kiss.
Husky nodded with determination. “I won’t let you down.”
After one last smile, Lucifer teleported back to Alastor’s side. In a far colder voice, he ordered him, “Kill him.”
“It will be my pleasure,” Alastor answered, annoyed by how much he meant it.
Without further ado, the cat charged at him. Alastor sank in his shadows with a laugh. He could already tell he would have a lot of fun with this power.
He dodged around as Husky attacked him with cards and rings. When Alastor sent shadow tentacles to attack back, he evaded them with all kinds of magic trick.
Alastor played with him for a little while, to get used to his power in battle, but, eventually, he grew bored. He tested his sound powers by summoning a static noise in Husky’s ears. The previous executioner sank to his knees and pressed his palms to his ears. Alastor could see blood leaking under his hands.
Using his confusion, Alastor made his shadow tentacle sharp and pierced his heart. For good measure, he detached his head from his shoulders with far more ease than with the angelic knife.
Since he was done, Alastor retracted all his powers. He searched for Lucifer, only to find him kneeling down besides his past lover. Alastor assumed his death saddened him at first, but then Lucifer took the head and threw it up in the air once. He then cradled it in his hands in an almost tender hold, looking into his dead eyes with a twisted kind of fondness.
Sighing, Lucifer confessed, “You really were weak, Husky.”
Standing up, he took the head by the hair and swung it around. As he walked to Alastor, he splattered his previous lover’s blood everywhere seemingly without a care in the world.
“I’m glad I won’t have to play that game anymore. Can you imagine me, the King of Hell, in love with a sinner? He was so gullible, it was almost cute.”
Lucifer’s smile was playful, his eyes bright.
“Is that how it works?” Alastor wondered. “The first task of your executioner is to kill their predecessor?”
“Not all the time,” Lucifer sing sang, taking pleasure in twirling around and swinging Husky’s head in exaggerated arcs, like a little kid. “Sometimes I have Hellborns execute them, or I order them to kill themselves.”
Without warning, he stopped dead in his tracks. Stepping in his space, Lucifer informed him, with a sadistic glint in his eyes, “Did you know that, if I told you to kill yourself, you would have to do it? Once, I made a hundred people sign a contract and then ordered them to kill themselves. I didn’t have to interact with a single gross sinners for a whole year.”
Sighing, he added, “It’s too bad I can’t do that all the time. I need to spice things up, keep you all on your toes. We’re supposed to avoid a rebellion after all. I can’t be predictable.”
The king brought his past lover’s head between them, obscuring his own face. Alastor made eye contact with its dead eyes. It would have been a chilling sight for someone else, but Alastor was used to dead stares.
Lucifer lowered his head enough to make eye contact again. Kissing one of his former lover’s ears, he informed him with glee, “I’m gonna go have fun with Husky one last time. Someone will show you to your room. I’ll get to you later.”
Hugging the head to his chest like a teddy bear, Lucifer sent him a wide grin and teleported in a puff of red smoke. Alastor had time to see Husky’s body vanishing in a mist of red too, but he did his best not to picture what Lucifer had in mind for it.
As he was told, an imp came to guide Alastor to his room. The other guards he had seen before had vanished while he was busy fighting Husky. He would have to find out what species they were later.
He tried to ask questions to his guide, but the demon didn’t answer any of them. After a while, they turned to him and showed him their opened mouth: their tongue was cut out.
The rest of the way was silent. The imp opened the door for him and silently closed after him. Alastor examined the room. It was big and luxurious, but way too golden and white to his taste. It only took him a twirl of his mic to change it all to darker tones.
Sitting down on a dark red velvet couch, Alastor concentrated and summoned the contract. With a relieved sigh, he went on to read.
As he thought, there was one glaring loophole, but it was otherwise pretty tight. When Lucifer gave him a target, Alastor had to kill them, unless the order was retracted. Failure to execute his order would give him a fatal heart attack an hour later. If Lucifer ordered him to kill himself, Alastor would have to comply or die an hour later anyway.
It was reassuring to find out it wasn’t a compulsion. Lucifer couldn’t manipulate his mind or his emotions. It was a small victory considering he could have him die with barely a word.
Alastor couldn’t use Lucifer’s power to kill someone if he wasn’t ordered to. That was where the loophole laid: he could kill anyone he liked, as long as he didn’t use Lucifer’s power. His angelic blade would come in handy.
The best part of the deal was that, as long as it wasn’t to kill, Alastor could use Lucifer’s power as much as he wanted. The deal prevented him from using his power to deal the killing blow, but he could torture anyone he wanted without explicit permission.
Overall, Alastor wouldn’t have as much freedom as he wanted, but it would be more than he expected.
An imp brought him lunch, but he couldn’t tell if it was the same one as before. The many plates contained various types of meats, bread, vegetables and fruits. He was also served a glass of wine with the bottle left next to it. Alastor had to admit it was the best meal he had since he fell in Hell, and perhaps for all of his existence. The wine was amazing too, even if it wasn’t his favorite kind of alcohol.
Food was one perk he had been looking forward to, and he was gratified to see his hopes weren’t unfounded. He would be eating like a king going forward.
He was still chewing when he was teleported away without warning. Alastor appeared in another bedroom, in front of a gigantic bed. Right in front of him, resting on the mattress, were the two parts of the sinner he had previously killed, covered in his own blood and a lot of sperm. More than Alastor thought possible from one single source, or even ten.
“I’m done with him,” a voice told him. Alastor looked towards it and regretted it immediately.
Lucifer was fully naked, lounging against the headboard. His legs were wide opened without anything to cover his exposed body. His wings weren’t visible, making his slim silhouette appear so much smaller, almost like he was a kid. Alastor’s eyes were unfortunately attracted down. Even soft, his penis was very long, and it was red with what he could only assume was Husky’s blood.
“I love to fuck corpses,” Lucifer confessed without prompting. Alastor looked back at his face to catch his smug expression. Shame wasn’t a concept Alastor was intimately familiar with, but he had a feeling Lucifer was even more removed from it than him.
“They don’t talk back, scream or fucking beg, and I can harm dead sinners, or dead-er sinners I guess, as much as I want.”
“Why am I here?” Alastor wondered.
Did he summon him to gloat, or did he want him to join in? Neither sounded appetizing, but he would take the former over the latter.
“I want you to butcher him so we can eat him later. I’m sure you know how to do that, I can tell you’re a cannibal.”
Alastor looked back at the cadaver. He could see there were far more holes than what he inflicted. All of them were oozing a pinkish substance. Alastor wished he never had to find out what blood mixed with semen looked like.
“You’re gonna want to clean him first though,” the king giggled. “Unless you’re into that.”
Alastor couldn’t help a wide body shudder at the suggestion. Unfortunately, Lucifer didn’t miss it.
Falling on all fours, Lucifer crawled up to him. He climbed up his body with his hands, pulling him in by the lapels. Alastor didn’t resist, but he didn’t make it easier either.
Circling his shoulders almost tenderly, Lucifer confessed, close to his face, “Don’t worry, it’s gonna be your turn soon, honey.”
He kissed him. This time, Alastor kissed back.
He wasn’t stupid, he knew what would await him when he decided to take this job. Lucifer made his disdain of sinners abundantly clear. Alastor had no reason to think he would be particularly concerned with his executioner’s consent.
Not to mention that he was also trying to manipulate him. If he had to sleep with him to achieve that, so be it. Lucifer couldn’t harm him, that surely meant being fucked by him at the very least wouldn’t hurt. Alastor would take it if it felt good, but he could also pretend if it didn’t. He was used to it.
He might be prepared to share his bed, but now wasn’t the time. He had to tease him at least a little before giving in.
“I have a body to prepare, your Majesty,” he pulled back, not without licking Lucifer’s lips teasingly.
“It can wait,” Lucifer suggested, perching himself on his shoulders. He was jumping up and down on his knees like a kid.
Somehow, Alastor doubted he was testing him. Did he have more in him, after all he did to that corpse? Perhaps being the Devil came with the perk of infinite stamina, although he would be tempted to call it a curse.
“The meat might go bad,” Alastor insisted. Gently, he took Lucifer’s hands and removed them from around his shoulders.
Surprisingly, Lucifer let him. Crawling back, he manifested white fluffy pajamas on his body and sank under the blanket. He retrieved a bright yellow duck plushie and hugged it tight.
“See you at dinner, Al!”
Alastor didn’t answer. Taking the battered and filthy body in his shadows, he teleported out of the room and navigated through the palace in his shadows. He found the kitchen soon enough, with an attached cold room. As soon as he appeared in it, everyone vacated to let him work.
The first thing Alastor did was clean the body, like Lucifer suggested. Although he wouldn’t catch anything in Hell, Alastor used gloves. Once all the semen was removed, he prepared it for consumption. They would need to let the meat age a couple weeks, but he assumed there would be another piece ready for tonight.
As he worked, Alastor thought about all he learned that day. Lucifer was nothing like he imagined him, and yet he was all he could dream of and more. He did find a lot about him distasteful, but his depravity only added to the allure of killing him.
He would take his time. Once Lucifer was dead, Alastor would lose all his power. He was looking forward to making deals and becoming an Overlord, but, first, he would have his fun with Lucifer.