Husk had always been good at pretending things didn't bother him. It was a skill he'd honed over years of living in the underbelly of Hell, where keeping your head down and your heart numb was the only way to survive. But this time, it wasn't working.
You'd been at the hotel for three days now. Three long, quiet days where you spent most of your time sitting in that same corner booth, sipping on whiskey or whatever Charlie insisted on offering, occasionally glancing around the bar as if you were waiting for something—or someone. You hadn't said much, not to Husk or anyone else, and you certainly weren't making any efforts to blend in. Not that anyone seemed to mind. Charlie had welcomed you with open arms, like she always did, and the rest of the hotel's usual inhabitants—Angel Dust, Vaggie, Niffty—had either ignored you or thrown their usual greetings your way.
But Husk noticed. He noticed the way you moved, how calculated every step seemed, how you watched the room with a strange sense of awareness that made his feathers itch. You didn't belong here. Not in the same way the others did. The usual riffraff that stumbled through the hotel doors were easy to read—desperate, broken souls clinging to Charlie's impossible dream of redemption. But you? You were something else entirely.
You didn't need redemption. At least, not the way the others did.
And that's what bothered him.
It gnawed at the back of his mind, an irritating buzz that wouldn't leave him alone. Every time he tried to ignore it, push it down with another drink, there it was again—your calm, composed face, your quiet confidence that made him feel like he was the one being scrutinized. Husk wasn't used to feeling like that. He didn't like it.
On the third night, Husk found himself leaning against the bar again, staring at the empty glass in front of him as the low hum of the neon sign flickered through the dusty windows. The bar was empty, save for the usual sounds of the hotel in the background—the occasional laugh or shout from the other rooms, the distant clatter of Niffty cleaning something she probably shouldn't be touching.
You were there, of course, sitting in your usual spot in the corner, nursing a drink like you always did. You hadn't approached him again after that first night, and Husk had been grateful for that. But now, with the stillness of the bar pressing in on him, he found himself glancing over at you more often than he'd like to admit.
What was your deal?
Why did you choose to stay in this dump?
He'd seen plenty of people come through these doors with their reasons, but you… you didn't make sense. You weren't desperate. You weren't looking for salvation or some kind of twisted redemption. You were just… there. Sitting quietly in the corner, never asking for anything, never giving anything away.
It made him uneasy.
And yet, despite himself, Husk found that he couldn't look away.
The door to the bar creaked open, and Husk's ear twitched at the sound, his wings shifting slightly in irritation. He didn't need to look up to know who it was. The presence that filled the room was unmistakable—heavy, suffocating, like the static crackle of an old radio just before the signal cuts out.
Alastor.
"Ah, Husk! Always a pleasure to see you so diligent at your post!" Alastor's voice slid through the air like oil, thick and smooth with that ever-present undertone of menace. The Radio Demon strolled into the bar with his usual exaggerated flair, his cane tapping rhythmically against the floor as his wide grin stretched impossibly across his face.
Husk grunted, barely acknowledging Alastor's presence as he poured himself another drink. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"
Alastor chuckled, the sound low and crackling like distant thunder. "Now, now, Husk, there's no need to be so cold! I simply thought I'd drop by and see how our newest guest is faring." His red eyes gleamed as they flicked toward your booth in the corner. "After all, it's not every day we get someone so… interesting."
Husk's feathers bristled, and he shot Alastor a warning look. "Leave 'em alone, Alastor."
"Oh, but where's the fun in that?" Alastor's grin widened, and he began to make his way toward your booth, his cane tapping softly against the floor. "Surely our guest wouldn't mind a little… company, would they?"
Husk's claws tightened around his glass, and before he could stop himself, he was speaking. "I said, leave 'em alone."
Alastor paused, one eyebrow arching in amusement as he turned to look at Husk. "Oh? And since when did you become so protective of our guests, hmm?"
Husk didn't have an answer for that. He didn't know why he was getting involved, why he felt this strange compulsion to keep Alastor away from you. It wasn't like he cared. Not really. But something about the way Alastor's gaze lingered on you, the way his grin widened just a little too much, set Husk on edge.
Before the tension could thicken any further, you spoke up from your booth.
"I'm fine," you said calmly, your voice cutting through the air like a knife. "If Alastor wants to talk, let him."
Both Husk and Alastor turned to look at you, though their reactions couldn't have been more different. Husk scowled, his feathers bristling in irritation, while Alastor's grin widened, pleased by your response.
"Well, well, well," Alastor purred, his voice dripping with amusement. "It seems our guest has a spine after all."
Husk shot you a glance, half-expecting you to bristle under Alastor's attention, but you just met his gaze with that same calm, unflinching stare. It was unnerving. You weren't afraid of Alastor. And that, in itself, was strange enough.
Alastor sauntered over to your booth, his red eyes gleaming as he studied you with far too much interest. "So, tell me, dear guest… what brings you to our little corner of Hell? Surely someone like you has an intriguing story to share."
You didn't answer immediately. Instead, you took a slow sip of your drink, your eyes never leaving Alastor's. When you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, controlled. "I'm not here for a story."
Alastor chuckled, the sound crackling with static. "Oh, but everyone has a story, don't they? Especially in a place like this."
You didn't rise to the bait. "I'm not interested in sharing."
Husk watched the exchange with a growing sense of unease. Alastor didn't take rejection well, and you were practically inviting him to dig deeper with that calm, composed attitude. He didn't know why, but he felt a strange need to step in. To do… something.
But before he could figure out what that something was, Alastor leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "You may not be interested in sharing, dear guest… but I'm very interested in you."
Husk's claws tightened around his glass, his beady eyes narrowing as he watched Alastor carefully. The Radio Demon was playing with fire, and Husk had a sinking feeling that whatever came next wasn't going to end well.
The air in the room grew heavier, the tension thickening like fog settling over the bar. Husk could feel it pressing down on him, the weight of Alastor's gaze boring into you. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Alastor toying with someone, but this time felt different. This time, Alastor's curiosity seemed sharper, more dangerous.
And you? You just sat there, calm and collected, meeting Alastor's gaze without flinching, like you weren't the least bit phased by the weight of his attention. Husk didn't know whether to be impressed or irritated.
"You're wasting your time, Alastor," Husk grumbled, his voice rough. "They ain't interested."
Alastor didn't even look at him. His focus was entirely on you, his grin stretching wider as the silence between you two deepened. It was like a game, a twisted power play that Husk could see, even if he didn't understand it.
"Oh, I don't think I'm wasting my time at all," Alastor purred, his voice smooth and menacing. "In fact, I think our guest here is full of surprises. Don't you?"
You set your drink down slowly, your fingers brushing the rim of the glass as you regarded Alastor with that same quiet intensity. "What do you want, Alastor?"
The Radio Demon chuckled, a low, crackling sound that sent a shiver down Husk's spine. "What do I want? My dear guest, I'm simply curious. After all, it's not every day that someone arrives at this hotel with such… poise."
Husk snorted. "Poise, my ass. Lay off 'em."
But Alastor ignored him, leaning in even closer, his red eyes gleaming with amusement. "You see, dear guest, I have a talent for spotting interesting people. And you? Oh, you're very interesting. So calm. So controlled. It's almost as if you're hiding something."
Husk felt his feathers bristle again. There it was—the exact thing he'd been sensing from you since you walked in. You were hiding something. Something big. But that didn't mean Alastor needed to dig it out. Husk knew the Radio Demon well enough to know that his interest was never harmless.
You didn't blink, didn't break eye contact with Alastor. "And if I am?"
Alastor's grin stretched impossibly wide, his voice dropping to a low, sinister whisper. "Then I'd love to find out what it is."
The tension between you two was palpable now, the air buzzing with a dark energy that made Husk's skin crawl. He could feel it—something was about to give. But before the moment could break, you stood up, smooth and deliberate, like you were ending the conversation on your own terms.
"If you're looking for a story, you won't find it here," you said, your voice calm, controlled. "I'm not interested in games."
Alastor's eyes gleamed, but he made no move to stop you as you brushed past him, heading for the door. Husk watched you go, his beady eyes narrowing as he tried to figure you out. Part of him wanted to stop you, to ask what the hell you were hiding, but another part—the part that had spent years drowning himself in whiskey and avoiding anything that looked like emotional involvement—told him to let you go.
Alastor, however, wasn't so easily deterred. As you reached the doorway, his voice slithered through the air again, smooth as silk but with an edge that sent a chill down Husk's spine.
"I'm not one to give up so easily, dear guest," Alastor said, his tone almost playful. "You can leave for now… but I'll be watching. And sooner or later, we'll find out what makes you tick."
You paused in the doorway, your back to Alastor, but you didn't respond. Instead, you stepped out of the bar without a word, the door creaking shut behind you, leaving the heavy silence in your wake.
For a long moment, neither Husk nor Alastor spoke. The tension in the room lingered, like a storm that had passed but left behind a thick, oppressive humidity. Husk could feel it pressing down on him, the weight of everything unsaid between you and the Radio Demon.
Finally, Husk broke the silence with a growl. "What the hell was that about?"
Alastor turned to him, his grin still firmly in place, but there was something in his eyes—something darker, more calculating. "Oh, nothing to concern yourself with, Husk. Just a little… curiosity."
"Curiosity," Husk repeated, his voice dripping with skepticism. "You've got your claws in somethin', don't you?"
Alastor chuckled, that low, static crackle filling the room again. "Now, Husk, you know me better than that. I'm just a humble observer." He straightened up, adjusting his jacket with a casual flair. "But I must admit… our new guest is quite the enigma, wouldn't you say?"
Husk's feathers bristled, and he shot Alastor a glare. "Don't know. Don't care."
Alastor's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, I think you do care, Husk. More than you're willing to admit."
Husk's mouth clicked in irritation, and he turned away, focusing on his glass instead of Alastor's smug face. "Piss off."
Alastor chuckled again, the sound low and menacing, as he made his way toward the door. "Very well, Husk. But remember… curiosity has a way of catching up with us all."
With that, he disappeared through the doorway, leaving Husk alone with his thoughts.
The bar was quiet again, but the silence didn't bring the comfort it usually did. Husk stared into his drink, his mind racing with thoughts he didn't want to have. Thoughts about you. About what Alastor had said. About the strange feeling that had settled in his gut since you'd walked through the doors of this hotel.
He didn't know what your deal was. Didn't know why you were here, or what you were hiding. But one thing was clear—Alastor wasn't going to let it go. And for some reason, that bothered Husk more than he was willing to admit.
Maybe it was because he didn't trust Alastor. Or maybe it was because, despite himself, he was starting to wonder the same thing.
What was your deal?
And why couldn't he stop thinking about it?
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