Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Heaven Embassy has the spacious feeling of a hotel with none of the activity. “It’s kind of like a church” says Vaggie as the seven of them step into the lobby, carrying their luggage. “Especially with those windows.”

Husk eyes the windows. “No wonder I’m nervous.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Charlie pats his shoulder then smiles around at the space. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It’s not like the churches I’m used to” says Sir Pentious, “We favoured a more Gothic approach in my day.”

Niffty nods. “You all wore black lipstick.”

“No, that’s…” Pentious begins, then seems to think better of it.

“It’s nice enough” Alastor shrugs. He sits down on one of the large couches that flank the main walkway. “But I for one am keen to see Hell proper.”

“Yeah” says Angel, nervously eyeing the large doors that dominate the space, “Are we gonna look outside?”

Everyone follows his gaze apprehensively. Pentious murmurs, “I can wait.” He tightens his grip on his suitcase. “Why don’t we get settled in first?”

“Not having doubts already, are we?” Alastor asks him.

“No! Not at all. I just think we should unpack before we go outside.”

“Just a peek” says Alastor.

“Actually” says Charlie, a little too quickly, “I like Pentious’s unpacking idea! Shall we go check out the rest of the embassy?”

Alastor narrows his eyes. “Is there something out there you don’t want us to see?”

Vaggie replies, “You mean other than Hell?”

Alastor laughs. “Well we didn’t come all this way just to hide in the embassy!”

“All this way?” Vaggie asks, “It was an elevator ride!”

“Metaphorically.” Alastor grins. “Come now! An entirely new plain of existence. I can’t be the only one curious.”

 “You ain't” says Angel, but he doesn’t go over to the doors.

“But” says Charlie, “But Alastor’s right: We have come a long way, and we’re tired.”

Everyone stares at her. Angel says, “…we literally just got up and got the elevator down here.”

“Speak for yourself” Pentious tells him, “I was awake all night with nerv… uhm, excitement.”

“See?” says Charlie, “All the sightseeing can wait for tomorrow.”

“Sightseeing?” asks Husk, “What fucking sightseeing is there down here?”

“The Vee tower” says Niffty, “And the palace, and Cannibal Town, and…”

Husk holds up a hand. “Kid, I didn’t ask for an itinerary.” He frowns. “What Town?”

“You don’t want to know” says Vaggie.

“Okay” says Angel slowly, “So maybe I do want to hide in here.”

Husk rolls his eyes and gestures to Alastor. “No, this bastard’s right. We should get the first out the way. See how screwed we are.” He glares at the doors, steels himself and heads over.

“I already know what it looks like” says Niffty.

“Well yes” says Alastor, “But we weren’t all invited to your annual killing spree.”

“I didn’t go to this one” Niffty tells him.

Alastor glances down at her. “This one?”

“The one they just did.”

Everyone turns to Niffty, then to Vaggie and Charlie, Husk pausing with his hand on the door. Charlie sags. “We were going to tell you” she mumbles, “It’s just that it’s so horrible I didn’t want to, and I thought maybe we should delay our arrival but then I thought we should get started as soon as possible so I thought I’d just have today be a staff training day and then you wouldn’t…” her voice dips as she curls in on herself, “…you wouldn’t have to see.”

“See what?” Pentious asks.

Vaggie shifts uncomfortably. “What the exorcists left behind. Niffty’s right: They were here a couple of hours ago.”

Angel stares. “What?” He waves a hand at the door, “Ya mean we’re about to step out into a battle field?”

“Oh, no” says Niffty, “The battle’s over. It’s just a load of corpses.”

Husk lets go of the door handle, leaving the doors firmly closed.

“It wasn’t a battle” says Vaggie softly, “It was a massacre.”

“Well” says Alastor, sounding entirely unmoved, “I’d still like to see it.”

Vaggie glares. “You would.”

Alastor shrugs. “Being squeamish would hardly be useful in Hell now would it?”

“We are not going out there to stare at people suffering!”

“Actually” says Pentious, “I think we should. Not to stare, I mean. To see. I’ve done quite enough of not seeing what was done in my name.”

Charlie, who has been staring at the floor while Vaggie and Alastor fight, looks up now, a gentle little smile returning to her face. “Pentious, that’s a really good point. Maybe we should see.”

Pentious nods sombrely and goes over to the door. Husk steps back to give him room. The snake angel pauses for a moment, then swings the door open.

The sky is red. The sprawling hellscape beneath it is covered by a city that stretches into the horizon. Closer to the embassy, shambolic buildings are punctuated here and there with smoke. Distant sirens compete with closer yelling. And splayed haphazardly on the ground is… “Fuck” says Angel with a shudder. “It’s been a while since I saw a dead body.”

“I’m surprised there’s only the one” says Husk.

“There’ll be more” Vaggie tells him.

Charlie steps out the door, walking a little closer to the corpse. Everyone else trails after her, staring around curiously at the closely packed buildings and the red sky. Charlie asks, “Do you think we should help?”

Vaggie takes her hand. “Love the sentiment, sweetie, but I think we’re a little late for that guy.”

Charlie gazes sadly at the body. “I don’t mean him. I mean everyone else.” She waves towards the surrounding buildings with their shattered windows and their presumably cowering inhabitants. “People could be hurt.”

“I’m sure they are, but I’m not so sure they want to see us right now.”

“Yes” agrees Pentious softly, “It would be presumptive.”

“And dangerous” adds Vaggie, “The last thing anyone wants to see today is an angel.” She turns back to the embassy. “Come on: We’ve had our first look, now let’s get started on turning this place into a workable hotel.”

As they turn back to the building, Angel pauses, then points. “What the Hell is that?”

Vaggie stops. “Oh…That’s…”

Niffty giggles. “A great big timer counting down til everybody dies.”

Angel stares at her, then at the timer. “Fuck. Can we get rid of that?”

Charlie gazes up at the timer, seeming to shrink in its shadow. “Of course we will” she tells him, “I’ll talk to Heaven about it.”

“Some Heaven” mutters Husk, “What the hell kind of angels think that’s okay?”

There is no answer to that. Everyone trudges back inside, Sir Pentious pausing to ask, “What’s that building over there?”

Vaggie follows his gaze. “Oh, that’s the palace.”

Husk turns at this. “Do we got to worry about Lucifer?”

Charlie replies, “Well he’s been told we’ll be here but I don’t know if we’ll see much of him. Apparently he doesn’t get out much.”

Angel stares. “The King of Hell doesn’t get out much?”

Vaggie tells him, “It doesn’t matter anyway. This is our embassy: It isn’t part of his kingdom.”

“Sure, but we’ll be messing with his subjects, right?”

“Not messing” says Charlie, “Helping.”

“Right” says Vaggie, “And Lucifer hasn’t said no to that. Or yes, to be fair. I think the exact word were sure, whatever, it’s never going to work because sinners are violent psychopaths.”

Husk stares around at the surrounding city. “Well” he says, “There ain't enough psychopaths in existence to fill a city this size.” He glances at Alastor. “And we know they’re missing at least one.”

“Exactly” says Charlie, “Some of these people have to be redeemable. We just need to get out there and find them.”

~~~

The embassy isn’t designed as a hotel, but Charlie has had a lot of disused offices converted to bedrooms ahead of their arrival. “The whole place is disused” Angel points out later, “I guess there hasn’t been a lot of room for diplomacy between all the massacres.”

“No one’s cleaned this place properly in year” Niffty confirms, “It’s full of bugs underneath all the shine.” One scuttles past, and she points and yells, “See?”

Angel and Husk watch her scurry off after it, leaving just the two of them in the grand, churchlike lobby. Angel adds, “We oughta make this place more homely. Get a pool table or something. Maybe a bar.”

“I ain't running no bar. Not down here.”

“Why? Ya figure sinners will make mean drunks?”

Husk looks away. “I’m an alcoholic. Leastways, I was in life. Obviously there is no addiction in Heaven so I can drink as much as I like up there. But here? Here is not the place to fall off the wagon.”

“Shit you’re right. I better stay away from all the drugs.”

“And gambling.”

“I ain't hooked on that. You?”

“Yep. Damn shame cause I’m pretty sure I saw some classy looking casinos out there.”

Angel considers this. “I mean, maybe we could just indulge? We’ll get cured as soon as we get back home. No withdrawals, no staying hooked.”

“Don’t temp me. We’re here to help these poor fuckers outta that shit, not join em in it.”

Angel looks chagrined. “I guess.” He pauses, glancing to the door. “Ya think it’s possible? Redemption I mean.”

Husk sighs. “No.”

“But you’re still here.”

“I mean, it’s not impossible some of em have it in em.” Husk nods towards the door. “Some of them are probably about as good as you and me, or almost, and we scraped through the pearly gates. The problem is Adam and whoever gave him the go ahead for these exterminations. You think they’re gonna sit back and let Charlie’s plan actually work?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, sure, that’ll be a problem. But we’ve got forever and an actual, older than time angel on our side. We’ll find a way round that.”

Husk grunts. “For someone older than time, she sure acts like a hyperactive kid.”

“Heh. That’s angels for ya.”

Husk smiles but it quickly fades. “She’s in for a shock when all this ain't as easy as she obviously thinks it’ll be. And not just with the pushback from Heaven. Sure, there’s folks out there who can change. But change fast with no set backs? No chance.”

Angel nods solemnly. “That’s where we come in, I guess. We know how it is when people give up on themselves. If Charlie gets jaded, we’ll have to remind her how easily that could’ve been us.”

They are quiet a moment then, watching Niffty zip around after an unlucky fly. Then Husk asks, “So you got any ideas on how to find your family?”

“Nope. Ask around, I guess, but it’s a big city.”

“You’ll find em. You got forever, like you said.”

“You heard those sierns outside, right? I figure that means there’s some kind of actual society down here. Weird, huh?”

“Not really. It’s what people do. I’ve seen it in war zones, refugee camps, even in prisons. Put a group of people together and they get organised.”

“Then I guess my family will be out there doing what they do best. Drug dealing, racketeering and generally being assholes.” Angel frowns. “I mean, unless any of them have changed. But why would they down here?”

“Well at least that means they’ll be easy enough to find. Mobsters ain't subtle back on earth and they won’t need to be here.”

“I guess.”

At that moment, Charlie enters, followed by Vaggie, Alastor and Pentious. Vaggie is glaring at Alastor, who returns her gaze with a smug smile. Pentious looks nervous, but stands to attention when Charlie encourages everyone to gather round. Alastor pointedly sits at a little distance from the others, his smile mocking in a way Charlie blatantly doesn’t pick up on. “Alright everyone!” she beams, “Are we ready to save some souls?”

Husk sighs at her peptalk tone and slinks back a few paces to slump in a chair. Charlie goes on, “Has everyone settled in? Chosen your rooms? Unpacked?” When everyone nods, she says, “Good. Because Alastor here has convinced me that we should head outside today after all.”

“What” says Angel, “Today when they’re all about ready to kill any angels they see?”

“Well actually” says Alastor, “Vaggie let slip that the sinners never actually fight back.”

“Because they can’t” says Vaggie, “But if anyone out there is stupid or desperate enough to try, it’ll be today.” She turns to Charlie. “They might not be able to kill us but we still want to avoid confrontation.”

“I know you’re worried” Charlie tells her, “But Alastor’s right. We can’t help these people if we fear them. And besides, we’ve given the sinners outside enough time to…”

“Clean up the corpses?” Niffty asks.

“…That. Hopefully things are getting back to normal out there.”

“Or what passes for normal in Hell” says Vaggie grimly.

Charlie rallies. “So maybe we should get out there. Talk to people, find out how we can help them, invite them in.”

Vaggie tells her, “No one’s going to want to come here right after the extermination.”

Alastor replies, “But starting from today gives them optimum time to redeem themselves before the next extermination.”

“Right” says Charlie, “We’ve got to try. For some of the souls out there, it’s life or death.”

Vaggie sighs. “Fine. But if anything goes wrong, it’s on this pendejo.” She glares at Alastor, then tells the others, “The plan is to fan out, cover the ground within walking distance of the embassy only and just put word out. Any questions?”

Pentious raises a hand. “We’ll be in pairs, yes? Because, well, um, it’s been a while since I was involved in any fisticuffs.”

“In pairs” Vaggie confirms. “You and Angel can work together, and Husk, you’re with Alastor.”

“What? How come I get the serial killer?”

Alastor tuts. “Really, Husker, I would have thought someone familiar with violence is a useful ally in Hell?”

“It’s Husk and fuck that! We ain't here to fight.”

Alastor tilts his head. “No, but we might need to defend ourselves.”

Husk folds his arms. “Yeah, maybe from each other.”

Vaggie snaps, “Can you guys knock it off? Husk, we’re pairing people up based on their ability to engage in self defence if necessary.”

“I can handle myself” says Husk.

Charlie twists her hands nervously. “Of course you can” she says, “I mean, your file shows you were involved in thirty seven street brawls in life…”

“And three wars, let’s not forget them”

“…but we still think it’s a good idea to stick together.”

Vaggie adds, “Especially so soon after the extermination. Tensions will be running high.”

“Fine. I’ll stick together with Angel and Pentious. Niffty can go with Alastor.”

“Oh, I’m not coming” Niffty tells him, “Have you seen under the floorboards in the hallway? The roaches have built a city and enslaved the centipedes and now they’re farming rats! I’m gonna have to stay here and clean.” She runs off.

Charlie watches her go. “…Okay. Well at least that solves the problem of odd numbers.”

“No it don’t” says Husk, “I’m in a three with these guys.” He gestures to Angel and Pentious. Pentious says, “Well, I’m sure three heads are better than two…”

“I rather think that depends on the heads.” Alastor smiles sweetly.

Vaggie groans. “Enough! Husk, someone has to go with Alastor and, frankly, I think you’ll be best at dealing with his bullshit. And no, neither of you can go out alone. It’s dangerous out there and if anything happens to either of you, we can forget about redemption. Heaven will cancel this project and possibly retaliate so it’s not just yourself you’re risking if you refuse a team up. Now: Are we ready?”

Chapter Text

Half an hour later finds Husk and Alastor walking through the streets of Hell, Husk glowering and taking care to keep a little distance between them. Alastor appears to take no offence to this, looking around cheerfully at the hellish surroundings. “You know” he comments, “I quite like it here.”

Husk glances around, at the sinners they’ve just passed, fighting amongst themselves, then at the discarded needles, the tatty shelters built by homeless people who may or may not have survived the extermination. “Yeah. Swell place.” His gaze lingers on a sign advertising hard drugs. “I guess it figures that a serial killer would enjoy chaos and suffering.”

“You act as if that’s all I am” says Alastor lightly. “In fact, I have a lot of hobbies.”

“…And one of them’s killing people, which makes the number of fucks I give about the others about zero.”

Alastor laughs, then neatly sidesteps a bloodstain spreading across the sidewalk. Husk skirts around it too, adding, “Anyway, I didn’t hear a denial.”

“About enjoying chaos and suffering? The way I see it, that exists everywhere. At least here it’s on the surface.”

“Where we can see it and steer clear?”

“Where it can be entertaining, of course!”

Husk growls, his fur bristling. “Sure. Entertaining. Meanwhile Charlie’s actually trying to help these poor fuckers and you’re acting like it’s all a big joke.”

“Actually, I’m very curious to see if her scheme works. And I really would love to see dear Mimzy again.”

“Sure” Husk grumbles, but says no more. He shifts his gaze to the red sky, now dotted with little drones.

Alastor adds, “But it is refreshing to finally take a walk somewhere where people don’t feel the tiresome need to be on their best behaviour all the time.”

“Oh fuck that. A freak like you gets into Heaven and you’re not even grateful for it?”

“Now, now, I never said that. But I notice when I said chaos and suffering exist everywhere, you didn’t deny it.” He turns, leading the way down a dark alley. A figure looms out at them and raises a knife, but hastily retreats when the shadows swell menacingly around Alastor. As their attacker flees, Alastor adds, “If you believed Heaven was perfect, you wouldn’t be here.”

“I guess not.” Husk glares around suspiciously at the new street they emerge into. “But I never killed anyone who weren’t an enemy soldier. I get to criticise Heaven. You should just be thankful you got in at all.”

“And I am. Thankful that I was reunited with my dear mama, that is. But I have never surrendered my voice.” Alastor shrugs and adds, “Well, except to the extent that we all do, in Heaven. Down here, we can speak freely. And you must admit, the place has a lot of character.”

Husk eyes a vending machine supplying drugs. “Well, yeah, I’ll give it that.” His gaze shifts to a demon passed out besides the machine. “You think we should help?”

“Give him the sales pitch, you mean? I suspect he’d need to be conscious for that.” Alastor tilts his head. “Then again, what if we just carried him back to the embassy? If he woke up there, Charlie’s enthusiasm might persuade him to stay.” A laugh track plays.

Husk growls. “Maybe we don’t need to bother with redemption. We could do a straight swap: Send this poor bastard to Heaven and you stay down here.”

“Ha! No. No, my fine feline, charming as this little hellhole is, I could never abandon mama. Besides, I still don’t see any evidence of radio down here. Though that can be fixed.”

“Just try to remember we’re here to help people, not broadcast at them.”

“Well on that note, how about we do bring this chap back to the embassy? He might stay put once he comes round, and then we have the acclaim of being the first to persuade a condemned sinner into the redemption programme.”

“Only by fucking kidnapping him! Nah, we’ll have to leave him be.” Husk takes one of the leaflets Charlie gave them, complete with pink glitter and highlighter doodles of clouds, hearts and rainbows, and slips it into the unconscious sinner’s pocket.

They walk on. After a while, Husk nods to the drones buzzing overhead. “From the look of those things, they moved on to modern technology. Got over radio.”

“One does not get over radio, any more than one gets over music.”

“You can get music on TV.”

“Ugh, those horrid videos! Why they feel the need to make everything visual I’ll never understand.”

“Online then.” Husk nods to a group of sinners stood around on a street corner. “Look, they’ve all got phones. Maybe they get streaming services down here?”

Alastor makes a dismissive noise. “Not the same. Listening all together to a live broadcast unites people in a shared experience. Streaming does exactly what it says on the tin: It separates people into their own little streams.” He frowns above his smile. “Perhaps that’s why they have it in Hell.” His frown deepens and he glances at the drones. “Who’s providing the service, do you think?”

“Service for what?”

“Streaming services suggests a service. Someone is making all this technology workable. And relying on radio waves to do it, I might add.”

“Well they got money here. I guess even in Hell people got to make a living.”

“Forget living: If everyone in this city has a portable picture box machine someone is making a killing.”

“Lucifer maybe?”

“Not very engaged with his kingdom from what Charlie said. Not enough that he’d want to spy on everyone.” Alastor waves cheerily at a passing drone but his smile is cold.

They walk on for a while, until the surroundings shift from derelict and openly vice riddled to creepily refined. Husk says, “You think we should circle back?”

“No, no. It would be a shame to stop when we seem to be reaching the area the better class of sinners live.”

“We’re supposed to stay in walking distance of the embassy.”   

“Well, we are walking, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but my feet are getting tired.” Husk glances about. “And I don’t trust how clean the place suddenly is.”

Alastor looks up. “This is more like it. They’re leaving.”

Husk follows his gaze up to the drones, which do appear to be flying off. “Almost like they’re scared of something” he mutters.

A woman’s voice tells him, “That would be me dear.” She steps out of a doorway, dressed in a black dress at least a century old. She is pale, sharp toothed and her eyes are dark pits. She greets them with a curtsy. Alastor bows automatically. Husk stares at them both. The woman straightens up and adjusts her dress, telling them, “Now aren’t you both brave, coming here. I suppose you thought we’d be too full today to fit you in?”

“Actually” says Alastor, “I confess we’re completely ignorant newcomers.”

“…fit us in?” Husk repeats.

“Newcomers? Oh, you poor things! You fell today? And right after the extermination! But then again, that does give you time to settle in before the next one. You know what, just to be sporting, I’ll give you a head start, how’s that sound?”

Husk grabs Alastor’s arm and tries to tug him back the way they came. Alastor stays put and says, “Aha, no! You misunderstand. We’re not sinners. We’ve come here from the Heaven embassy. I’d give you a leaflet but frankly, they’re of embarrassingly poor quality.”

Husk mutters, “Do the words head start mean nothing to ya?”

“You’re angels?” The woman asks, her gaze hardening. “Then you’re still brave coming here today of all days, or to put it another way, you’ve got some fucking nerve.”

Alastor laughs again, softer this time. “Fair enough. I quite agree that Heaven has done nothing to warrant your trust or hospitality. But please don’t judge us all on the likes of Adam. We’re here for quite a different reason. Perhaps I will give you a leaflet.” He turns and helps himself to the wad of leaflets in Husk’s pocket. Husk tells him, “Or we could back the fuck off?”

Ignoring Husk, Alastor hands the leaflet to the woman. She takes it with a suspicious glance. Her glare slips into confusion as she looks it over. Alastor tells her, “As you can see, we represent an angel who is far more well-meaning and far less organised than Adam. She’s in the embassy now and very keen to welcome sinners seeking redemption.”

“Huh. And what has Heaven done to make me think redemption is worth having?” The woman studies the leaflet a little longer, glancing at the replicas stuffed into Husk’s pocket. “Did you make these, dear?”

Alastor’s smile almost slips. “I most certainly did not. My drawings are far more professional.”

The woman laughs. “Well, whoever did, they’re persistent, I’ll give them that. to hand draw all this? How sweet.” She holds the leaflet out. “I’ll give you this back. I’m not interested in what you’re selling and I never litter as a rule. One has to maintain standards you know, even down here. Perhaps especially down here.”

“An admirable sentiment.” Alastor takes the leaflet back and hands it off to Husk who shoves it back in his pocket. The woman adds, “Now, where are my manners: I haven’t even introduced myself!” She holds out a hand. “I’m Rosie. Mayor of Cannibal Town.”

Husk takes a step back. “What Town?”

Alastor takes Rosie’s hand and plants a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you. And this is Husker.”

“What Town?!”

Rosie laughs. “Cannibal Town, dearie, and you’re just in time for the feast!”

Husk stares. “…Is that a threat?”

Rosie laughs again. “Oh, it would have been five minutes ago.” She takes Alastor’s arm. “But you know what, this one’s won me over! Good manners are so rare these days. I imagine it’s the same up in Heaven if Adam’s anything to go by?”

“Oh, most of us are better than him” Alastor assures her, “Not that that takes much of course.” He and Rosie chatter amiably as she leads him deeper into a network of vintage looking streets, past store fronts that wouldn’t be out of place in small towns of the early twentieth century. As they pass by, Rosie begins to point out the local landmarks. Behind them, Husk glances back the way they came, catches sight of a grinning sinner with teeth as sharp as Rosie’s, then hurries to catch up instead.

“…And here’s the town square” Rosie is saying as she guides Alastor round a corner and into an open space partially occupied by a quaint bandstand. “Of course, we’re busy today.” This is true: The area is bustling with activity as a crowd of pale, black eyed sinners scurry around setting up tables and loading them with… “Okay” says Husk, “I’m out.”

Rosie laughs. “Oh, don’t let the corpse put you off.” Her smile fades as she adds, “It was angels like you who did this after all.”

Husk goes quiet then, looking around at the bodies lain across the tables, and carts and gurneys arriving with more. “Fuck” he mutters.

Rosie nods. “There’s plenty more where they came from. And of course, we’ve had some fresh where they fell.”

“You eat them?” Alastor asks curiously.

“Oh yes, it’s our thing.”

“Ah, hence the name” Alastor says teasingly.

She laughs. “I can see nothing gets past you.”

Alastor watches as another cart arrives, pulled by a strange looking creature and piled with blood soaked corpses. “I’d say sorry” he says in a more sombre tone, “But it wouldn’t be sufficient.”

Rosie folds her arms. “It’d be a start.”

“It would be entirely insincere. I’m afraid I don’t feel much of anything these days, especially not remorse.”

Rosie eyes him for a moment, then says coldly. “Well, I guess I can’t fault your honesty.”

Alastor goes on, “Besides, we’re not exorcists. We only knew this was happening a few days ago. I can assure you, most of Heaven are completely unaware of this routine slaughter.”

“Are they now?” Rosie considers this. “I guess that’s something. Not that it makes any difference to these poor souls.” She gestures to the cart, then watches as a group of cannibals start the unloading process. Others set up chairs along the long tables. Rosie explains, “For the sit down meal, we start with our own. It’s a mark of respect.”

Alastor nods understandingly. Husk shudders and turns away from the cart. Rosie goes on, “And for the outsiders we didn’t eat today, there’s a whole lot of preserving that needs to be done. It’s a community effort.”

“And a community service, I’m sure.”

“Oh yes, the rest of Hell is awfully judgemental but they’d miss us if the bodies just piled up in the streets. We don’t have an overlord of garbage collection. Not glamorous enough I guess.”

“Overlord?”

Rosie smiles. “I can see you have a lot to learn about Hell, young man.”

Alastor gives her a winning smile. “Are you offering yourself as a teacher?”

“That depends: What would I get out of it?”

“Intelligence about Heaven, naturally.”

Rosie scoffs. “What would I need that for? No, you’ll have to think of a better offer before I give away all our secrets.”

Alastor considers for a moment. “How about a live broadcast? I was quite an accomplished radio presenter in life, you know. I could put on a show some time, here in your bandstand.”

“Oh? I’ve heard about radio.” Rosie glances around at the bodies being laid out on the table while others are carried off into homes and stores. “We talking music here? Full orchestra?”

“As long as they play some jazz, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Rosie hums thoughtfully. “Well alright. My cannibals could use a morale boost after all the carnage. The feast is fun but it is also a funeral.” She raises a finger. “But I hope you prove to be as accomplished an entertainer as you’re making yourself out to be. Now, let me show you to my emporium. I’ve never taken tea with an angel before…”

Before long, Alastor and Husk are sat side by side on a couch at the back of a cluttered, cosy emporium, while Rosie, seated in an armchair opposite, pours tea. “So” she says, “You’ll be wanting all the gossip. Who’s in charge of where, who owns who, that kinda thing?”

Alastor nods. “That’s the general idea.”

“Who owns who…?” Husk murmurs.

“And you understand that if you try and back out of your side of the bargain and deny my town their entertainment, I can hunt you down and turn you into soup.”

Alastor laughs. “No need for that, I assure you. You have my word as a gentleman.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“But if it comes down to it, please turn me into jambalaya.”

Rosie laughs. “Oh, that reminds me, I’ve got snacks here somewhere.” She stands and bustles around, ignoring Husk’s frantic headshaking. “Here.” She presents them with a box, lifting the lid to reveal a display of fingers.

Alastor hesitates, then takes one. He and Husk stare at it, until Rosie waves the box at Husk. “And you, dear?”

“I’m good.” Husk stuffs his hands into his armpits. He turns back to Alastor who is still staring curiously at the finger. “Don’t you even think about it” he warns.

Rosie sits down and waits patiently, while Alastor continues to study the finger. She sips her tea. Then she urges, “Go ahead, sweetheart, it’s just meat you know.”

“Human meat!” says Husk.

Alastor seems to steel himself a little, then takes a tentative bite. Rosie beams. Husk’s fur stands on end and he shifts away from Alastor, pressing himself against the arm of the couch. Alastor chews thoughtfully, then takes another bite. “You know” he says, “This isn’t bad.”

“I do know” Rosie giggles.

“Ah, well, yes.”

There is a knock at the door. Rosie stands. “I’ll see to that.” She hurries off. As soon as she’s gone, Husk rounds on Alastor. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Well it would be rude not to partake of our hostess’s food, Husker.”

“Her food is fingers! I don’t care for rude!” Husk goes quiet as Rosie returns, telling them, “Just one of my souls wanting to know how I want an unusual demon preserved.” She sits back down opposite them. “Some kind of mercreature parrot hybrid. Beautiful feathers and scales. Such a shame.” She puts her smile back on and watches Alastor eat. “I’m glad to see you tucking in. So many people judge us cannibals very harshly, you know.” She glances at Husk, who glares right back. Then she adds, “And these fingers are special. You see, all my souls seal their contract with a finger. These are the ones who signed up just before the extermination, hoping for protection.”

“And can you protect them?” asks Husk reluctantly.

“A little. We always lose a few but they’re safer here than on their own in the rest of Hell.”

Husk looks doubtful. “And in return they give you a finger?”

Rosie nods. “And their soul.”

Husk stares. “Their what?”

“Their soul, dear. Oh don’t look at me like that! Plenty of people sign soul contracts down here and I like to think I’m one of the more reasonable overlords. After all, my souls are accommodated in one of Hell’s most stable and prosperous neighbourhoods, and enjoy a lot of freedom so long as they alter their diet, give up certain intrusive technologies and allow me to change their appearance a little, to match our town’s aesthetic. Humanoid animals like yourself are lovely, don’t get me wrong, but I like my territory to resemble earth as closely as possible.”

“And you’ve succeeded” Alastor tells her, setting the now fleshless finger down in his saucer and smiling at her. “This is by far the most delightful neighbourhood we’ve seen yet.”

“Oh, such a charmer! But you see, the area surrounding the embassy isn’t the most respectable, if you get my meaning. No one wants to live next door to the angels – no offence, dears – so it’s folk with no other choice that end up there. A lot of the rest of Hell is more refined. A lot of folk stick with people who died around the same time and place as them, or indulged in the same vices, but then you’ve got parts that are more mixed. So it’s just like any other big city really, except for people sorting themselves into times as well as cultures.”

Alastor nods. “That’s not unlike Heaven. Where I live, we don’t see the need for the noisy portable telephones the newcomers favour. We prefer actual conversation.”

“Well don’t let Vox catch you talking like that. I keep his drones at bay pretty well if I say so myself, but he’d just love for us all to be hooked on his products.”

“Vox?”

“An overlord, like myself. But nothing like myself when it comes to class and decorum.”

“Naturally. And an overlord is…?”

Husk answers for Rosie, staring at her in horror. “A soul owner.”

Rosie tuts. “An accomplished soul owner” she corrects. “I have thousands here in Cannibal Town and, credit where it’s due, Vox has a fair few too. We’re not those up and comers you’ll meet, with a half dozen chains, fighting over each little scrap of territory.”

Alastor sets his tea aside. “So how many overlords are there?”

“Oh, quite a crowd. Maybe twenty or so with real power.” Rosie spends some time filling them in on the politics of Heaven, listing overlords and would be overlords, describing their roles in Hell’s hierarchy, the services they nominally provide and where their territory is. Alastor listens with interest, while Husk, huddled at the far end of the couch, listening despite himself. Rosie’s list is long, and takes some time to impart.

Finally Roise asks, “So what brings you down here? You personally, I mean, not your team. And don’t tell me it’s to save souls because you don’t strike me as the missionary type.”

“I’m glad to hear it” says Alastor, “Though I am curious to see whether it can be done, I’m mostly here for a chance of scene. That and I have a friend down here. Mimzy.”

Rosie smiles softly. “And you’ve come all the way down here to find her? Must be quite some friend.”

“She is. I’d be grateful for your help if you have any idea where to find her.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know her, dear. When did she die?”

“Back in 1928.”

“And you’re still hung up on her? You poor dear. Well, I’ll put word out, see if any of my acquaintances’ acquaintances have heard of her.”

“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

“Oh it’s no trouble. I hate to see young sweethearts parted.”

“Young what now?”

“She means you gotta have the hots for the broad” Husk explains.

“Oh!” Alastor blushes, “No, no, no. Mimzy is my friend. Literally, not euphemistically.”

“Just a friend? And you came to Hell for her?” Rosie tilts her head, looking puzzled. Then she breaks into a knowing smile.

“And to see the sights” Alastor confirms, “And to set up a radio station. It seems you’re sadly lacking.”

“Oh, so you’re not planning to stop at the broadcast you promised me?”

“Oh no, you need a whole station.”

Rosie stirs her tea thoughtfully. “You know, I never warmed to television even before Vox came along but radio might be alright. I wouldn’t say no to having music playing in the emporium without needing to hire a band.”

“Well in that case, perhaps you can point me in the direction of a suitable place to erect a radio tower?”

“Oh you don’t need my help with that! The extermination just happened, we’ve got entire neighbourhoods wiped out. Just pick a spot and start building.”

“It’s that simple? No permit required?”

Rosie laughs. “Permit! Sweetheart, this is Hell. Who’d we ask, Lucifer? No one’s seen him in years. No, there are no rules here.”

“Which is how you’re getting away with cannibalism” mutters Husk.

Rosie, mercifully, pretends not to hear that.

It is evening before they leave, Rosie hurrying off to help with feast preparations and Alastor and Husk making their way back through the well kept streets of Cannibal Town. Alastor breaks their silence with, “What a nice lady.”

“For a cannibal” mutters Husk.

“That really is sore spot with you, isn’t it?”

“Oh, you noticed! How’d you think Charlie would react if I told her you just ate one of the people she’s trying to save?”

“Only the fingers.”

Husk groans and runs a hand through his fur. “Not the point.”

“Don’t be such a pill, Husker. Cannibalism has existed in hundreds of cultures throughout human history.”

“So has war.” Husk sighs in relief as they slip down an alley between two stores and emerge in a decidedly modern and run down part of Hell. “C’mon. Let’s get back to the embassy before you decide to eat anyone else.”

“Well actually…”

“Don’t!”

“I’m kidding, Husker!”

Husk growls and leads the way back through the darkening streets.

Chapter Text

“Does it ever get completely dark, do you think?” asks Sir Pentious, “Or just a darker red?”

Angel shrugs. “With this light pollution, I doubt it makes a difference either way.” They are surrounded by towering neon signs, some advertising drugs, others advertising sex, including some things Pentious has openly admitted he hasn’t heard of and which Angel hasn’t explained. Angel holds a sparkly leaflet out to a passing sinner. “Ya interested in a redemption programme?” he asks half heartedly. Then he swears and waves a fist as the sinner pulls the whole wad from his hand and scatters the leaflets across the street before running off laughing. “Fuck this” he mutters as he and Pentious gather the leaflets up. “No offence to Charlie but no way is this shit gonna appeal to these people.”

Pentious looks upset. “You mean they don’t want redemption?”

“I mean they don’t want leaflets that look like they’ve been drawn by a five year old on a sugar high! We need to get some proper advertising.” He straightens up, scrunching the leaflets into his pockets. “Let’s forget about these and just talk to people.”

“Well, alright, but I should warn you I’m not terribly good at that.”

Angel laughs and slaps the snake on the back.  “I gotcha. We’ll go find a bar. Maybe buy some drinks with all those Hell dollars Charlie gave us. That’ll break the ice.” He starts to guide Pentious towards the nearest bar, then pauses and says, “Or we’ll start off small.  Talk to someone who’s on their own. Like her.” He points down the street to a woman leaning in a doorway, scowling at passersby. Like Niffty, she is a cyclops, and as they approach, she makes an obvious effort to smile even though her one big eye is dull. “Hiya, fellas. Is it two of yer? Cause I don’t do threesome discounts.”

Angel replies, “No offence toots, but I don’t do women.”

The woman scowls and gestures down the street. “There’s men on the game that way.”

“I ain't looking for sex” says Angel, “Well, not right now at least.”

Pentious chimes in, “We’re wondering if you’d be interested in redemption.”

Angel makes a shushing gesture. The woman stares and asks, “What the fuck?”

Pentious ignores Angel and goes on, “Well, you see, we’re from Heaven and…”

The woman laughs. “Yeah, right! And I’m Saint Bloody Mary!”

“Oh but we are” says Pentious, while Angel face palms beside him. He offers a leaflet. “We’re looking for lost souls interested in bettering themselves.”

The woman takes the leaflet without looking, crumples it up and tosses it on the ground. “Fuck off.” She stalks off down the street.

Angel makes a what the heck gesture at Pentious. Pentious asks, “What? We were talking.”

“I said enough with the leaflets! And we’re supposed to warm up to the redemption thing, get a conversation going!”

“Oh!” Pentious nods in understanding and darts past Angel to catch up with the cyclops. “Wait! Wait a moment, Miss…Miss…?” He asks, drawing up beside the woman as she pauses at the edge of the road, traffic zipping past. When she doesn’t tell him her name, Pentious blunders on, “Miss, well. Please let us, um…Let us buy you a drink.” He gestures towards a bar. “And enjoy some conversation.”

The woman rolls her eye. “Why’d I do that if you aren’t gonna hire me? You looking to spike me and get it for free?”

It takes Pentious a moment to realise what she means. He gasps. “No! I would never!”

Angel catches them up. “He means that” he says.

The woman scoffs. “What, and I’m just supposed to take your word for it? Look, normally, fine I’d be up for a drink and I’d watch it too closely for you perverts to get a look in. But right now, I’m trying to earn some money to pay my boss back. I don’t got time to get wasted with two random blokes.” She glances down at the leaflets in Angel’s pockets and adds, “Specially not nerds who believe in re-fucking-demption! We’re in Hell in case you didn’t notice! Fuck, you’d think I’d be safe from religious freaks here.” She gives up on crossing and turns away to head back the way she came.

“But we are from Heaven” Pentious tells her, hurrying after her.

“Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that, mate.”

“Perhaps you could at least take a leaflet.” Pentious holds another out.

“It’d make his night” says Angel, tagging along behind.

“His night ain't my problem” says the woman, but she takes the leaflet and looks it over this time. “Oh fuck this! You dickheads are trying to get people to go to the embassy? You want to get me killed?”

“No!” Pentious shakes his head earnestly, “We’re opening it as a hotel. I can assure you, it’s quite safe.”

“It’s true” says Angel, “All the deets are on the back.”

The woman flips the leaflet over and starts reading through Charlie’s neon scrawl. Pentious adds, “We’re trying to help people change their wicked ways and join us in Heaven.”

“What if I like my wicked ways?”

“Well do ya?” says Angel, “Because, no offence toots, but here you are out alone looking to sell…what exactly? To make money for – wait, did you say your own boss?”

“Fuck you and yes, for my boss.”

“See that’s not the way round it normally goes.”

The woman sighs heavily. She hands Pentious back the leaflet, uncrumpled this time. Pentious asks, “Can you at least tell us your name?”

“Cherri” she says reluctantly, “And look, I don’t normally do this. I mean, sure, now and then I fill in at Val’s studio but usually I work for Vox. Special effects crew. But just because I accidently blew up this one crappy set he’s on at me to get the money to pay to replace some shit or he’ll hand me over to Val for good! So I gotta get the money now and no one’s about to pay me for pyrotechnics so it’ll have to be sex. And if you’re about to judge me for it for it, go fuck yourselves.”

“I ain't” Angel holds up his hands, “I ain't about to judge you. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“There must be another way” says Pentious, “Did you say this man is your boss? Couldn’t you hand in your resignation?”

Cherri laughs without amusement. “Maybe you nerds really are from Heaven.” When they continue to look blank, she spells it out. “The bastard owns me, okay? So no, I can’t quit. I get his money or he gives me to Valentino. And you know what that means.”

“Actually” says Pentious, “We don’t.”

Angel adds, “But I can see from your face it’s nothing good.”

“Pfft. You got that right.”

“Well, we can’t let this happen!” Pentious declares, “Tell us where this Vox is and I’ll call him out! I’ll give him what for!”

Cherri stares. “Wait, you…” She snatches a leaflet back. “You’re fucking kidding me? This is real?”

Angel shrugs. “Yeah, but how is Pen going white knight on your boss what convinced you?”

“Because everyone in Hell has heard of Vox! Fuck me! You’re really angels?” For a moment, Cherri looks awed, but then her expression sours. “What happened: You get bored of killing us and figure you could give us false hope instead?”

“Oh, it isn’t false” Pentious insists.

Angel adds, “We got nothing to do with the exterminators. You ask me, they’re the ones that deserve to be stuck down here.” Angel runs a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s a lot to explain and I ain't big on politics. But the key thing is most of us back in Heaven don’t know about the exterminations and we sure as shit don’t want to kill anyone! I got family down here. I’m here to help.”

Cherri looks again at the leaflet. “By making me repent and pretend to be someone else?”

“By giving you a chance to work on yourself.”

Cherri looks torn for a moment. But then she shoves the leaflet back at them. “Well, good luck with that. Sounds fucking boring.”

“Wait!” says Pentious as she walks away. “At least let us pay you!”

Cherri turns around. “For what? I thought you were gay.”

“Bisexual, actually” says Pentious, “But I’m not hiring you. Not that you’re not lovely! But, well, it would be wrong.”

Cherri gives that humourless laugh again. “Yeah, that’s me, sinful sex worker. Way too dirty for an angel like you to shag.” She frowns. “Do you even shag?”

“That’s not how he means it” Angel reassures her, “And yes.”

Cherri laughs for real this time. “What, big, happy, consensual orgies up in Heaven?”

“If ya know the right places.” Angel pulls out the money Charlie gave them and puts it in her hand. “Will this cover it?”

Cherri quickly counts the notes, brightening up instantly. “And then some!” She stuffs the notes into her pockets before she asks, “What and you’re just giving it to me?”

“And this” says Pentious, handing back the leaflet.

“That’s all we’re asking in return” Angel tells her, “Just read it and think about it, okay?”