Husk had never been a fan of questions—especially not ones that made him think too much. The less he had to deal with other people's problems, the better. But lately, it seemed like everyone was making it their business to dig into things. First Alastor, with his ominous curiosity about you, and now... Vaggie.It wasn't that Vaggie was a bad person. Hell, she was one of the few around here who actually made sense. But today, she was giving Husk that look—the one she gave when she was thinking too hard about something. It was always followed by questions. Questions Husk wasn't interested in answering.He sat behind the bar, as usual, nursing a glass of whiskey that was doing less and less to keep his mind from wandering. The hotel had been quiet since the encounter with Alastor the night before. Too quiet, in fact. You hadn't shown up in your usual spot, and that, for some reason, bothered him.Vaggie walked into the bar, her footsteps soft but purposeful. Husk didn't look up, hoping that if he pretended to be busy, she might leave him alone. Fat chance."So," Vaggie began, her voice cutting through the stillness, "you've noticed, haven't you?"Husk grunted. "Noticed what?""The new guest," she said, sliding onto one of the barstools, her eyes fixed on him with that intensity she always had. "They've been keeping to themselves, but... something's off."Husk rolled his eyes. "Everyone's off in this place. Welcome to Hell.""No, this is different," Vaggie insisted, leaning forward slightly. "I've been keeping an eye on them. They're too... controlled. It's like they're waiting for something. Or hiding something."Husk tensed slightly but covered it by taking a long sip from his glass. "Yeah? So what? People come here with all kinds of baggage. What makes them different?"Vaggie didn't answer right away. Instead, she glanced toward the doorway, as if expecting someone to walk in at any moment. When no one did, she turned back to Husk, her expression serious."Have you noticed how they avoid talking about themselves?" she asked, her voice low. "Every time someone asks about their past, they deflect. It's like they don't want anyone to know where they came from."Husk snorted. "Hell's full of people with secrets. Ain't nothing new.""But this feels... bigger," Vaggie pressed. "I've seen a lot of people come through this place, and I can usually figure them out pretty quick. But with this one? I don't know. It's like they're not supposed to be here."Husk froze, his feathers bristling slightly. "What do you mean, 'not supposed to be here'?"Vaggie's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Husk thought she was going to press him harder. But instead, she leaned back, her gaze thoughtful. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's just a feeling. But there's something about them... something that doesn't fit."Husk grumbled under his breath, trying to shake off the unease that was creeping up on him. He didn't need this. Didn't need to be dragged into whatever mess was brewing. But Vaggie was relentless."Have they talked to you?" she asked, her voice quiet but pointed.Husk shot her a glare. "Why would they talk to me?""You're the one who spends the most time in here," Vaggie said, crossing her arms. "They sit in this bar every night. I figured you might've picked up on something."Husk shrugged, trying to play it off. "People come in here to drink and forget, not talk. I'm not exactly runnin' a therapy session."Vaggie didn't seem convinced. She leaned in, lowering her voice just enough that Husk had to strain to hear her. "Ask them about the Seraphic Echo."Husk blinked, his glass hovering near his mouth as he shot her a confused look. "The hell is that?""It's something that only angels would know," Vaggie said, her eyes narrowing. "It's a sound... a song. It's said to resonate only in Heaven. Some say it's the sound of creation itself, others think it's the remnants of the first light. No one really knows what it is—except for angels."Husk's feathers bristled, a sharp jolt running through him. He set his glass down with more force than necessary. "What're you implying, Vaggie?"Vaggie's gaze didn't waver. "I'm not implying anything," she said softly, but there was a weight behind her words. "I'm telling you—ask them. See how they react. I've been around a lot of people, Husk. I know when someone doesn't belong. And that guest? They don't just not belong here—they don't belong anywhere in Hell."Husk's feathers ruffled further, an uneasy feeling crawling up his spine. "You're sayin' they're... what? Fallen?"Vaggie didn't answer right away. She just stared at him, her eyes sharp and calculating. "What if they are?" she asked, her voice low. "And what if more are coming?"Husk stiffened, his claws tightening around the edge of the bar. He didn't like where this was going. Not one bit. Hell was Hell—its inhabitants were meant to be the worst of the worst, the damned, the broken, the fallen. But angels? Angels didn't just... show up here. Not like this."If one fell," Vaggie continued, her voice soft but insistent, "there could be others. If something's happening in Heaven, we need to know about it before it spills over here."Husk's wings twitched, the unease growing by the second. "You're makin' it sound like some kinda angelic invasion."Vaggie gave him a pointed look. "I don't know what's happening. But if they fell, they might not be alone. And if we're dealing with a fallen angel—""We're not dealin' with anything," Husk growled, cutting her off. "I don't care where they came from, Vaggie. They're here, drinkin', same as everyone else. Leave it at that."But Vaggie didn't back down. "Husk, this could be bigger than just one lost soul stumbling into Hell. If they're from Heaven—if they fell—then something's wrong. Something big." She paused, her gaze softening slightly. "Please. Just ask them. Ask about the Seraphic Echo. If they know what it is... we'll know for sure."Husk felt a sharp pang of irritation shoot through him, his feathers bristling so hard they made a soft rustling sound. He didn't like being dragged into this. He didn't like Vaggie pushing him to get involved in something that, frankly, wasn't any of his business. But the look on her face—the quiet intensity—told him she wasn't going to drop it.He let out a low, frustrated sigh, running a claw through his disheveled feathers. "Fine," he muttered, more to shut her up than anything else. "I'll ask. But you better not make a big deal out of this if it turns out to be nothin'."Vaggie gave a small nod, but the unease in her eyes didn't fade. "Thanks, Husk. Just... be careful."With that, she left the bar, her footsteps quiet but deliberate as she disappeared into the hallway. Husk stared after her for a moment, his lips letting out a sigh as he picked up his glass and took a long, slow sip.The Seraphic Echo? He'd never heard of it. Didn't care to know much about Heaven, either. Hell was bad enough without getting tangled up in whatever cosmic drama was unfolding up there. But the idea of more angels falling—of Heaven's mess spilling into Hell—made his feathers itch in a way that he didn't like.If more were coming...Husk shook his head, trying to push the thought away. It was just one guest. One odd, quiet guest who kept to themselves. No reason to think they were anything more than another lost soul trying to find a place in the endless pit of despair.But the nagging feeling wouldn't leave him.He'd have to ask.And he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.—-It had been a couple of days since Vaggie's warning, and Husk had done his best to ignore it. He wasn't interested in playing detective or getting tangled up in whatever mess might be coming from above. He was content to mind his own business, pour drinks, and try to forget he'd even heard the words Seraphic Echo.But you hadn't left.You were still here, sitting in that same stool, as calm and unreadable as ever. The usual crowd came and went, but you stayed. And that? That was starting to bother him more than he wanted to admit.So here he was, across from you again, with a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand and Vaggie's words bouncing around his skull. He wasn't one for subtlety, and the question had been sitting on the tip of his teeth for days now, gnawing at him every time he glanced your way.The bar was quiet tonight. Just the soft hum of the neon sign and the faint clink of glasses being washed in the back by Niffty. There weren't any interruptions—no Angel Dust, no Charlie bouncing in with her relentless optimism, and no Alastor lurking with his unnerving grin. Just you and Husk, the silence heavy between you.He cleared his throat, more out of habit than anything, and finally spoke."You ever hear of the Seraphic Echo?"You didn't react immediately. You didn't flinch or startle like he expected. Instead, you just kept your eyes on your glass, your fingers tracing the rim in that slow, deliberate way you always did when you were thinking.For a moment, Husk thought you weren't going to answer. Thought you might just shrug it off like you had every other time someone asked about your past. But then, after what felt like an eternity, you looked up.There was something in your eyes now—something deeper, darker, more vulnerable than he'd ever seen before. And for the first time since you'd walked into this bar, Husk could tell that you were holding something back. Something big."It's not something I expected to hear down here," you said quietly, your voice steady but laced with something Husk couldn't quite place. Pain, maybe. Or regret. "How do you know about that?"Husk felt the words hit him like a punch to the gut. He froze, his glass halfway to his muzzle, the weight of your response settling over him like a heavy blanket. The Seraphic Echo—something only angels knew, something he wasn't supposed to be hearing about down here in the depths of Hell. He'd felt it in his bones, the quiet tension around you, the way you moved like someone who had seen things no one else had.But hearing you admit it—that you knew, that you'd heard it—it was like a crack had formed in his reality. He had known, deep down, that there was something different about you. Something bigger than just another soul passing through Hell. But knowing it, and accepting it, were two different things.He didn't want to accept it.Not you. Not here."How do you know about that?" you'd asked, your voice so calm, like you were discussing the weather. Like it wasn't a big deal.Husk's feathers bristled, his grip tightening around the glass until it creaked. There was something in your tone that rubbed him the wrong way, something that made his skin itch. He set the glass down, a little too hard, the dull thunk of it reverberating in the otherwise quiet bar."You're askin' the wrong question," Husk muttered, his voice low and gruff, trying to hide the edge in it. He felt off-balance, rattled in a way he hadn't been in years. "The real question is, what the hell is someone like you doin' here?"His words hung in the air, and for the first time since you walked through the door, Husk felt a surge of anger. He didn't want this. Didn't want to deal with someone who had fallen from there. He didn't want to be tangled up in Heaven's mess.That was Charlie's deal.Husk was only at the Hazbin Hotel because of Alastor. He wasn't here for redemption. He was here because of the damn chains the Radio Demon had him in.It was bad enough down here already. The hotel with its mopey drinkers that had stumbled in more often now that Adam had been defeated. But then there had been you.The way you sat there now, so composed, so... detached, like none of this mattered, like you hadn't just dropped a bomb in his lap—it pissed him off."I don't belong here, if that's what you're getting at," you said, your voice still calm, too calm. That calmness only fed the fire inside Husk, made him feel like you were holding all the cards while he was left scrambling to keep up."Yeah, no shit," Husk growled, his teeth showing start against his pulled back lips. He shifted in his seat, his wings twitching behind him, rustling as if trying to shake off the unease crawling up his spine. "You don't belong here. You're—"He cut himself off, the words sticking in his throat. He didn't want to say it. Didn't want to acknowledge it. You were more than what you seemed, and that unsettled him in a way that few things had since he ended up in Hell."You're an angel," Husk finally spat, his voice sharp with frustration. "Or you were."You didn't deny it. You just sat there, staring at him with those unreadable eyes, like you'd been waiting for him to figure it out.Husk let out a harsh, bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Why the hell are you even here, huh? Why fall? You didn't want Heaven? Fine. Great. But don't come down here and pretend you're just another lost soul." His feathers ruffled with agitation, his claws tapping impatiently on the bar top. "You're somethin' else."For a moment, you didn't respond. You just watched him, your gaze steady, your calm unshaken despite the rising tension in Husk's voice. And that only made it worse. It was like you had expected this, like you'd been through it before. Husk hated that—hated feeling like you were always one step ahead, always keeping something from him."I didn't expect to end up here either," you said, your voice quieter now, almost resigned. "But sometimes the choices we make don't lead us where we think they will.""Yeah, well, no one chooses Hell," Husk muttered, his voice rough. "Except maybe the idiots who think they can game the system."You shook your head slowly. "I didn't choose this. Not... exactly."Husk bristled again, his feathers puffing out as the anger swirled inside him. "What the hell does that mean? You either fell, or you didn't. You're either one of them or one of us."The words slipped out before Husk could stop them, and he immediately regretted them. His feathers flattened slightly as the weight of what he'd just said sank in. He wasn't one to draw lines, wasn't one to care who was who in Hell. They were all stuck in the same pit. But with you? There was something that made him feel like you were still on the outside, still clinging to whatever you'd had before you fell.And he hated that.Because it meant there was still a piece of you that didn't belong here.A piece that might still have hope.Your gaze flickered slightly, and Husk could see it—the faintest crack in your calm facade. For just a moment, there was a flicker of pain, of something raw and deep, before you quickly masked it again."I'm not one of them anymore," you said, your voice steady but softer, like it hurt to say it. "I made a choice. And now I'm here."Husk stared at you, his mind racing as he tried to wrap his head around everything. This wasn't just about you falling. This was about why. And it was about what you'd left behind, what you'd given up to end up here."You... you walked away from it," Husk muttered, more to himself than to you. "You walked away from Heaven."You didn't respond right away. Instead, you reached for your glass, taking a slow sip, your eyes distant. When you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, almost hollow."There were things I couldn't stand by anymore. Things I couldn't accept. So, I left." You set the glass down with a soft clink. "I fell."Husk's claws dug into the bar, his feathers bristling again. It wasn't just that you had fallen. It was that you had chosen it. Chosen to give up whatever perfect life Heaven had offered. And for what? To end up here, in Hell, drinking cheap whiskey in a run-down bar?"You're obviously not some male exorcist, like Vaggie," Husk accused, his voice gruff and tinged with frustration. He stared at you hard, as if looking for the answers in your face, something to explain the weight you carried. "So, what the hell were you? And how many types of angels are there anyway?"The question hung in the air for a moment, and Husk realized, with a sudden jolt of unease, that he'd never really thought about it before. He knew there were thousands of types of demons in Hell's nine rings—each with their own twisted purpose, their own hierarchy. But Heaven? He hadn't cared. Heaven wasn't his concern. It wasn't supposed to be."How many rings are in Heaven?" he asked, his voice quieter this time, almost wary.You let out a soft sigh, your fingers still tracing the rim of your glass. When you spoke, your voice was calm, but there was something deep in it, something heavy with knowledge that Husk had never wanted to know."Heaven isn't structured the way Hell is," you said quietly, your eyes distant, like you were recalling something far away, both in time and space. "There aren't 'rings' like the ones you have here. It's more... layered. Different realms for different purposes, different beings."You paused, your gaze flicking back to Husk. "Angels have their own hierarchy, too. We serve in different capacities—messengers, guardians, warriors... exorcists like Vaggie, who handle the direct conflict with Hell."Husk grunted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't like this—didn't like hearing about Heaven's workings, didn't like being reminded that there were forces out there bigger than Hell's endless torment. "So, what were you?" he asked, his voice sharper now, more demanding. "What role did you have up there before you decided to chuck it all away?"Your eyes met his, and for the first time, Husk saw a flicker of something that looked like regret—or maybe sorrow."I was a guardian," you said softly. "My role was to protect... to watch over souls before they found their way to either Heaven or Hell. But things changed. The rules changed." You looked down at your drink, your voice tightening slightly. "I didn't agree with what we were being asked to do anymore. I couldn't just watch souls suffer and pretend that the system was just. So, I questioned it."Husk's feathers bristled at that. "You questioned Heaven? Like Lucifer." His tongue clicked in disbelief. "That's why you fell?""I didn't have a choice," you murmured, your eyes darkening with the weight of old memories. "I couldn't keep serving a system that I didn't believe in anymore. I couldn't watch innocent souls fall through the cracks while we did nothing."Husk felt something twist in his gut, a sharp pang of unease. He hadn't expected this. He'd thought maybe you were like the others—another soul that had stumbled into Hell through bad decisions or unfortunate circumstances. But you had chosen to fall. Chosen to walk away from Heaven, from whatever idealized existence it had been, because you couldn't accept what you'd been asked to do.It made sense, in a way. Hell was full of people who had made the wrong choice, or no choice at all, and paid the price for it. But you? You had made a choice, and that choice had landed you here."So, you fell because you wouldn't play by their rules," Husk muttered, more to himself than to you. "And now you're stuck here, same as the rest of us."You didn't respond right away, but Husk could see it—the weight of everything you'd left behind, everything you'd lost, settling over you like a heavy cloak. He didn't know what to say. Didn't know if he even wanted to say anything. But the anger—the frustration he'd felt just moments before—was starting to fade, replaced by a strange, uncomfortable understanding.Because, in a way, he got it.He knew what it was like to question things. To feel like you didn't fit in, like the rules didn't apply the way they should. Every gambler felt like rules didn't apply to him. It was how he ended up with that demon's leash.For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. Just... there. Husk wasn't sure if he should push further, wasn't sure if he wanted to. But then you spoke, your voice quieter than before, like you were sharing something you hadn't intended to."They always say Hell is punishment," you said, staring into your glass. "But sometimes... I wonder if it's any different from what Heaven's become."Husk's feathers ruffled, and he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. For once, he didn't have a snarky comeback or a sarcastic remark. The thought of Heaven being anything like Hell—it didn't sit right. But then again, nothing had felt right since you'd walked into his bar.Instead, he just stared at you for a moment, his claws tapping idly on the bar top. "So what now?" he asked gruffly, more to break the silence than anything. "You stickin' around? Or are you just passing through like you said?"You didn't answer right away, but when you did, your voice was steady. "I don't know yet."Husk let out a quiet grunt. It wasn't the answer he wanted, but it was probably the only one you had to give.He stood up, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and pouring himself another glass. He didn't like getting involved. He didn't like thinking too much about anything beyond the next drink or the next night. But you had thrown a wrench in that plan, and now, he couldn't help but wonder what the hell was coming next.Because if you had fallen, if you had chosen to be here...Maybe more were on their way, and he really didn't want to deal with a bunch more sad drunks - especially angels - crowding up his bar, even if he had somehow grown used to seeing you there.Chapters posted one day early on our non-profit writing group blog dedicated to making audioworks & writing on a schedule (writers receive no profit from any works) - https://fictioneers.thinkific.com/pages/blogNext Chapter Preview:"Ah, Husk! My favorite bartender! Still running the best establishment in all of Hell, I see!" Lucifer Morningstar strolled into the room like he owned the place. Which, to be fair, he kind of did, but that didn't make Husk feel any better about it. Lucifer's usual air of self-importance followed him like a cloud, and he practically radiated misplaced enthusiasm as he swept across the room, his cape trailing behind him.Husk groaned, slumping forward over the bar. "Oh, great. Just what I needed."Lucifer either didn't hear him or chose to ignore the sarcasm entirely. His wide grin stretched across his face as he approached the bar, his red eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. "Busy night?" he asked, leaning casually against the counter.Husk raised an eyebrow, glancing around the mostly empty bar. "What do you think?"Lucifer laughed, a loud, obnoxious sound that echoed through the room. "Ah, yes! Quiet as ever. But that's why I like it here. A place to unwind, let loose, perhaps even—" He paused, his eyes drifting over to you, sitting quietly in the corner. His smile faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, his grin returning full force as he clapped his hands together. "Ah! So, that's why I'm here."