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Price of Freedom	By : Venka Category: +G through L > Hazbin Hotel Views: 85 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or claim any rights to Hazbin Hotel or its characters, settings, and storyline. All rights to the original series and its intellectual property belong to VivziePop and its respective owners.

Chapter List
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You're a wonder, how bright you shine
A flickering candle in a short lifetime
A secret dreamer that never shows
If no one sees you then nobody knows
And all these words you were meant to say
Held in silence day after day
Words of kindness that our poor hearts crave
Please don't keep them
Hidden Away
A smile played across Charlie's lips as she listened to the song she had pulled up on Voxtube. It was her first exposure to Luke Strike's music, and she found herself drawn into the heartfelt lyrics. In the song, Luke sang passionately about someone he was infatuated with, urging them to embrace authenticity instead of hiding behind silence.
"That sounds nice," Vaggie commented, stepping into the room she shared with Charlie. "Is that the singer Cherri mentioned?"
"Yeah," Charlie replied, nodding. "I mean, a song like this doesn't seem like something Angel would like, but then again… he was around during the same time period as Alastor. So maybe there's something calming about hearing something nostalgic. It's like a window to the past."
Vaggie smiled, settling beside Charlie to listen to the music. The soothing melody filled the room, creating a tranquil atmosphere that seemed to resonate with both of them. As they listened, Charlie felt a sense of connection to the lyrics, appreciating the emotional depth conveyed by Luke Strike's voice and words.
"It's nice to discover new music," Vaggie remarked softly. "Especially when it strikes a chord like this."
Charlie nodded in agreement, grateful for the moment of shared enjoyment with Vaggie. The song continued to play, its evocative notes weaving a comforting backdrop to their thoughts and conversations, enveloping them in a sense of warmth.
"Didn't Cherri mention that Angel sings too?" Vaggie asked, her curiosity piqued. "She did say she felt Angel's singing voice sounded better."
"We have heard Angel sing before," Charlie affirmed. "Remember when he sang with you and everyone else, cheering me on with the hotel? And also when you two stood together, preparing to punish Pentious for spying on us for Vox."
"But those were group performances," Vaggie pointed out. "If Cherri prefers Angel's singing, maybe she's heard him perform solo. But if he is a singer, why is he involved in pornography? And why haven't we heard more about his singing?"
"Perhaps he's more renowned as a… porn actor," Charlie ventured. "Or maybe he incorporates singing into his adult films. It's also possible that the songs he performs solo are personal to him and not something he readily discusses."
The conversation left both Charlie and Vaggie contemplating the layers of Angel's talents and the intriguing intersection of his artistic pursuits. The mystery surrounding Angel's singing career alongside his involvement in the adult entertainment industry added a new dimension to their understanding of their flamboyant friend.
"Maybe there are recordings of Angel singing on Voxtube," Charlie mused, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she typed 'Angel Dust Songs' into the search bar. Instantly, a slew of selections populated the screen, featuring titles like "Use Me Up" and "Addict."
"Okay, yeah, that would explain why Angel didn't mention singing performances," Vaggie remarked, a hint of skepticism in her voice as she observed the results, typical of the provocative spider. "None of these sound like they are approprate."
"I mean, it doesn't hurt to listen, does it?" Charlie suggested optimistically, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she pointed to a particular video. "Look, this one titled 'Poison' is recent." She was just about to click on it when a firm knock interrupted her.
A moment later, Niffty burst into the room with uncontainable excitement. "We have new guests!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her feet. Charlie set her phone down, her interest immediately redirected.
"Here at the hotel?" Charlie's face lit up with enthusiasm. "I didn't expect our new commercial to work this fast."
"They're downstairs in the parlor," Niffty confirmed, her voice bubbling with eagerness. "Alastor is already talking with them." The news propelled Charlie into action, both ready to be introduced to the unexpected residence and perhaps uncover more surprises about the hotel's burgeoning popularity. Vaggie considered following, but she held back and picked up her girl friend's phone.
"So then," Alastor inquired, his crimson eyes fixed on the two demons, the corners of his mouth curling into his trademark grin as one brow arched inquisitively. "You've come to join the hotel. What made the two of you interested, hmm?"
Standing before the radio demon were two gray-furred spider demons, youthful in appearance yet bearing an air of determination. The elder, appearing to be in his early twenties, boasted a concrete gray fur with streaks of charcoal and blackish tones accentuating his hair. Dark gray glove-like markings adorned his primary hands, and his eyes were striking—sclera as black as midnight, with pupils resembling white thorn-like slits. Flanking the corners of his eyes were three smaller orbs on each side of his face, adding to his intriguing countenance.
Beside him stood his younger companion, a teenager with cool gray toned fur. The edges of his hair were tinged with a dark, almost blackish-blue hue, echoing the color of his fingertip tips before fading seamlessly into the filaments of body hair. His primary eyes gleamed white with striking black pupils, accompanied by three distinctive black spots above his left eye and another trio beneath his right, giving him a unique and enigmatic appearance.
Both spiders were attired in dark gray dress pants held up by suspenders, complemented by crisp white linen shirts that added a touch of formality to their otherwise intriguing presence. The elder demon positioned himself slightly forward, subtly assuming a protective stance in front of his younger counterpart, as though prepared for any unforeseen challenge or scrutiny.
"We heard about this place around town," the elder demon explained confidently. "My Fratello and I have been seeking a better life for ourselves, and the reputation of this establishment piqued our interest." His voice carried a hint of determination, reflecting their shared desire for a fresh start and new opportunities within the walls of the bustling hotel.
"Then you've come to the right place," Charlie exclaimed with a warm smile as she reached the top of the grand lobby stairs and gracefully began her descent. The opulent chandeliers above cast a sparkling glow around her. "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" Upon reaching the lobby floor, Charlie closed the remaining distance in a few purposeful strides, her hand extended in a gesture of greeting. "I'm Charlie, the founder of this hotel," she announced proudly. "You've already met Alastor, our host. And you two are?"
"I'm Riven," introduced the younger of the two spider brothers, his voice tinged with curiosity as he shook Charlie's hand.
"Charmed to meet you, I'm Ari," chimed in the older spider with an eloquent nod. "I possess skills in manufacturing textiles, particularly silk."
"Well, that is quite impressive," Alastor agreed with a wide smile, his gaze lingering thoughtfully on Ari as though assessing the spider and considering how formidable he could be.
"Yeah, most sinners here in Hell just don't appreciate high-quality fabric," Ariadne charismatically added, his inverted colored eyes glinting with a business minded attitude as he assessed the Overlord. "You yourself are a man of taste, I can tell upon seeing you."
Alastor's crimson eyes flashed momentarily, a subtle warning beneath his facade of calm. "As a man of business," he commented dryly, "you should be aware that flattery doesn't work on everyone."
"Well, thank you for joining our hotel," Charlie said warmly, her voice carrying genuine appreciation. "I prefer to have all guests and staff on the second floor. As you can see, the idea of the hotel hasn't caught on yet. But we are doing everything we can to improve and redeem people within Hell. Even if Heaven isn't possible, Hell doesn't have to be completely terrible. Niffty will show you to your rooms. When everyone gathers back tonight for dinner, I'll be thrilled to introduce you both to everyone here. I see everyone in this hotel as my family, and I want you both to feel like welcome members yourselves."
Charlie's words conveyed her earnest desire to create a sense of belonging and warmth within the Hazbin Hotel, despite its unconventional setting in the depths of Hell. As she spoke, her eyes gleamed with hope and determination, envisioning a community where individuals could find purpose and redemption amidst the challenges of their eternal existence.
Both Ari and Riven exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes meeting in silent apprehension. The weight of their duty to monitor a certain individual within the hotel hung heavily upon them, driven by the imperative to safeguard their family's interests. While the two spiders played up the sense of belonging within this setting, the remark from the Princess of Hell about the hotel's inhabitants being akin to a surrogate family, rather than mere business associates, stirred unease within them. This notion unsettled them, casting doubt on the true nature of what they had been instructed to do concealed within this familial facade.
"Come with me," Niffty said with an excited yet slightly frantic tone. "I'll be your guide to your rooms, gentlemen."
"Oh, sorry," Charlie quickly interjected, sensing the need to explain. "I forgot to mention, Niffty can be a bit enthusiastic, especially around guys. But don't worry, she means well."
"How about I take these fine gentlemen to their rooms," Alastor proposed smoothly. "We have some time before dinner, and it'll allow our guests to settle in. Plus, you've got that redemption activity coming up soon, Charlie. Best to prepare for that."
Niffty's face fell slightly as she pouted. "Awww, but I was really looking forward to showing them around."
"It's almost lunchtime," Alastor chimed in, redirecting Niffty's attention. "And you've got to plan tonight's dinner for nine people."
"Hey, Niffty," Charlie suggested. "The weather forecast said it'll be cold and wet later. Remember that lasagna soup recipe Angel taught you? Maybe we can serve that for dinner."
"Okay!" Niffty brightened up instantly, her energy shifting gears. With a skip in her step, she scurried off to attend to her culinary duties.
"Now, if you two gentlemen would kindly follow me," Alastor said smoothly, a charming smile playing on his lips, as he led the way towards the stairs. Ari and Riven fell into step behind him, their expressions hinting at a mix of curiosity and a desire to settle into their accommodations without incident.
Once they were safely out of earshot, Husk, the discerning bartender, couldn't contain his observations any longer.
"You do realize those guys aren't here for redemption," Husk remarked, his voice laced with skepticism.
"Ari mentioned he works in textiles," Charlie interjected, not ready to accept that the new guests may only be predators placed by someone who bore ill intentions for the hotel and the found family she had sworn to protect.
"Could be a cover job," Husk mused, his gaze sharp and assessing. "Or maybe it's a role he plays for the family he's affiliated with. I've been watching them closely. While Ari was engaging with you, Riven was scanning the surroundings like he was on a mission, searching for someone or something specific. And did you notice their reaction when you mentioned everyone here being family? They exchanged a glance that suggested they clearly were not informed about that aspect."
Charlie's brow furrowed slightly, absorbing Husk's astute observations. The realization dawned that their new guests might have more beneath the surface than initially apparent, setting an undercurrent of caution amidst the congenial atmosphere of the hotel.
"Well," Charlie said, trying to sound reassuring. "Dad mentioned he added some protections of his own. One of them allows the building to reject anyone who enters with the intent to harm anyone here or disable the hotel from within. It's a pretty sophisticated form of sorcery, designed to identify malicious intent and neutralize it before it can cause any damage. He was quite proud of it."
"I hope it doesn't need to be used," Husk said, a note of worry in his voice. "At least not with those two. They might be here on a job, but I believe it's just to infiltrate the hotel for whatever their family wants. The Ragno family is notorious for their underhanded tactics. They might think this hotel is a cover for someone, like Angel, and they want to see if it's a threat to them. The Ragno family itself is a dangerous group, but they don't attack someone unless they find there is reason to do so. They're always looking for potential threats or opportunities to exploit. If they suspect anything here could pose a danger to their operations, they'll act on it. But if they don't find anything threatening, they might -and I mean this hopefully- they might just leave us alone."
"Hey Sal," Riven asked after Alastor had left them alone to settle into their respective rooms. Ari's bedroom had taken on the appearance of an executive business office, similar to the one their grandfather and later their father had when they were young boys. The wallpaper was a deep, rich red adorned with an intricate gold spider web print, giving the room a sense of opulence and mystery. The lower third of the wall was lined with dark wood wainscoting, adding to the room's distinguished, old-world charm. Dim sconce lights cast eerie shadows that danced across the room, enhancing the feeling of being in a place both grand and unsettling. The twin-sized bed was designed to resemble a luxurious couch, complete with plush cushions and ornate wooden legs. A thick, spider web-printed brocade curtain hung around the bed, ready to be pulled shut for privacy, creating a small, enclosed sanctuary within the larger room.
Riven ran his fingers over the polished wood of the desk, feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and unease. "You get the feeling too, Fratellino?" Ari asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The older of the two brothers turned from examining the heavy drapes at the window, his dark eyes reflecting the dim light. "The feeling that we are here by mistake?" he replied softly. "It's like we are the mistake... the people who shouldn't be here. It feels like we are intruding on something that doesn't involve us or the family." He moved to the desk, his fingers brushing against an old-fashioned inkwell, the kind their father used to have. "But maybe there's more of a purpose to us bein' here, something we're meant to find or understand. Why else would Papa send us?"
Riven nodded, his unease momentarily soothed by his older brother's words. "Perhaps," he said, looking around the room once more. "But until we find what we want to know, we should be cautious. Particularly around the fuckers that live here."
"Papa only said to monitor Angel Dust to be sure he wasn't doing anything against the family," Ari responded. "Apparently, this guy had been a member of our family in the past. You and I were still kids when Papa was crushed in that train accident in 1949, but we still met all the guys in the family at that time. With Nonnino being locked away and later dying in Rikers, and Papa dead in his attempts to save the family, the rest of the Ragno Clan had to be folded into the DeNatale family. In either case, there was never a guy in the family known as Angel Dust."
"What about..." Riven started to say. "Didn't Papa have a younger brother? I mean, there was an aunt we saw occasionally, but there were family pictures of a guy who looked like a male double of Zia Molly. We just never met him because he'd be conveniently absent or away on something whenever we visited Nonno's house."
Ari's eyes widened slightly as he remembered. "Yes, I do remember those photos now," he said slowly. "There was always this mysterious uncle in the pictures, but no one ever really liked talking about him. It was like he was a ghost, always present in the family lore but never actually there."
"The person that was carried out of our grandfather's house on a stretcher and taken to the hospital," Riven continued, the memory becoming clearer. "I remember that day vividly. We were told to stay inside and not to ask questions. Papa seemed troubled about whatever it was. Mama seemed to regard the event as though whatever had happened should have happened a long time ago, but Papa, he was torn between being angry and anxious."
Ari nodded. "I remember, too. It was a chaotic time. But why would no one ever mention him by name? And what is so concerning about this 'Angel Dust'? It doesn't make sense unless he was using a different name when he was part of the family."
Riven sighed, running a hand through his hair. "There's so much about our family's past that we don't know. I mean, yeah the family has its secrets, and back then we weren't exactly supposed to be in the fuckin' know about anything to do with the family buisness. Maybe this Angel Dust person is somehow connected to that uncle we never met. It's possible he changed his name or got involved in something that made the family shelve him."
"Zio Anthony," Ari said, snapping his fingers as the forgotten name came to mind. "That was his name. Papa and his younger brother never really saw each other as family. The brother was supposedly sick in the head. And Mama didn't want us anywhere near him so we wouldn't see whatever was wrong with him as normal."
Riven nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Though, what Zia Molly would say about him was a lot different than what Papa would say," he responded.
Ari's eyes narrowed as he considered this. "Yeah, Zia Molly always spoke about him with a kind of sadness, like there was more to his story. She hinted that he wasn't the person our parents made him out to be, it was more that he was misunderstood or something."
Riven leaned back, crossing his arms. "It makes you wonder what really happened. Why would our folks go to such lengths to keep us away from him? And why did Zia Molly seem to think he was just misunderstood?"
"Whatever this is, it's not something that concerns us. We are only doing this job because the family needs it done," Ari responded firmly, his voice steady and resolute. "Once we have the information we want, we can leave this place."
Riven sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall. "It's eating at you though, Salvatore," he said, his tone softer now. "It may be as Papa said, that this Angel Dust or whoever is plotting something against the family. But even Papa wasn't convinced of that. He was only passing orders from our grandfather, and we were perfect for the job because we were the only guys Angel Dust wouldn't recognize from the family."
Ari nodded, his eyes narrowing as he thought about their mission. "I wonder if Angel Dust may actually be Zio Anthony," Riven continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Think about it, Zio Anthony supposedly died of a drug overdose in 1947, Zia Molly vanished after Zio Anthony's funeral, Papa was crushed to death when the train he was taking cross-country derailed in 1949. So if our uncle arrived here in Hell a little under two years before Papa, and then Nonnino appears here about twelve years after Papa, and Zio Anthony is being called a traitor for just leaving the family. Yet, in all the seventy or so years he has been here, never once has he attempted anything against the family. I ain't buyin' it. Even if we are virtually immortal. If Uncle Tony knew the family would wind up here in Hell too, why would he wait until now? Even if he was waiting for Nonno or Papa to drop their guard, you don't wait for seventy years if you want to start something."
Ari paused, considering Riven's words carefully. "You're right," he finally said, his voice thoughtful. "It doesn't add up. If Zio Anthony really wanted to harm the family, he had plenty of opportunities. Maybe there's more to his story that we don't know."
Riven nodded, his expression grim. "Exactly. We need to find out the truth about Zio Anthony or Angel Dust for that matter. Maybe there are secrets our family wants to keep buried, and not for the reasons we believe."
Charlie hummed happily to herself as she returned to the room she shared with her girlfriend, Vaggie. The cozy space was a sanctuary from the chaos of the hotel, decorated with soft, warm colors and personal touches that made it uniquely theirs. She smiled as she thought about Vaggie waiting for her, but her mind kept drifting back to the conversation she had with Husk earlier that day. He had mentioned his suspicions about Ari and Riven, the two spider brothers who had recently arrived at the hotel, possibly being sent as agents of the Ragno family.
Charlie couldn't shake the feeling that Ari and Riven weren't being completely honest about who they were and their reasons for joining the hotel. She replayed their interactions in her mind, looking for clues. Despite her suspicions, she didn't think they had malicious intentions toward the hotel or its residents. There was a sincerity in their actions, a hint of something good-hearted or at least something that aspired to be good. It was a small comfort, but it was enough to give her hope.
Her thoughts then turned to Arackniss, another member of the spider family. With Arackniss, things were more complicated. She didn't get the impression that he was good-hearted, but she couldn't bring herself to label him as entirely evil either. He was a puzzle, a mix of corruption and potential. Charlie liked to believe that there was always a way to find something worth the effort of change in anyone, no matter how deep their darkness ran.
Angel's relationship with Arackniss troubled her. The brief moment the two spiders had encountered each other wasn't overtly hostile, but the tension in the air was palpable. Charlie had watched as Angel smartly took Niffty and ushered Cherri away, preventing her from becoming needlessly hurt or worse. It was a proud moment for Charlie, seeing Angel handle the situation with such maturity. Despite the lack of open hostility, the encounter had clearly left Angel emotionally wounded, and the source of the tension seemed to come more from Arackniss than Angel.
Knowing that the dark-furred spider was one of Angel's relitives helped explain their reactions to each other. Still, it was hard to understand how the expectations of an overbearing father could lead to such animosity. Charlie pondered this as she walked, wondering what kind of family dynamics could create such deep-seated issues. Regardless of the hostility, she also sensed that Arackniss was a pragmatist who wouldn't resort to drastic measures unless he stood to gain something.
As Hell's Princess, Charlie often felt the weight of her responsibilities, not just to the hotel but to its residents as well. She had spent countless moments thinking about how to heal and reconcile the familial bond between the two brothers. But her previous attempts to involve herself in Angel's personal life outside the hotel hadn't gone well. The last thing she wanted was to lose Angel's trust or drive him away by meddling in something she didn't fully understand.
Charlie sighed as she reached her room, she knew she needed to tread carefully. The bonds of family were complex and fragile, and while she wanted to help, she understood that sometimes the best thing she could do was offer support from a distance and let those involved find their own way. With a gentle knock, she opened the door, ready to share her thoughts with Vaggie and seek her advice.
"I wish you had come downstairs with me, Vaggie," Charlie said, her voice tinged with disappointment. Her beaming smile faded as she noticed her lover sitting on the bench seat just under the window. Vaggie was hunched over, looking stressed—something the blonde princess had seen the former exorcist do at times. One of Vaggie's hands was clamped around Charlie's Hellphone, pressing it face down into the red plush cushions of the bench seat, as if she couldn't bear to look at it.
"Vaggie?" Charlie called softly, noticing the concern in her own voice. She took a tentative step forward, her eyes full of worry.
Vaggie looked up, her expression distracted. "Sorry," she said, her voice distant and unfocused. "So, we have new residents at the hotel?"
"Yes," Charlie replied, trying to keep her tone light. "They are a pair of brothers known as Ari and Riven." She watched Vaggie's face closely, hoping to see some sign of interest or excitement.
"Okay," Vaggie said, still sounding distant. "I'm glad... I'm glad they have come to join us." Her words were hesitant, as if she was struggling to focus on the conversation.
"Is something wrong?" Charlie knelt down in front of her girlfriend, her concern evident. She reached out and gently touched Vaggie's knee, hoping to provide some comfort.
"Kinda," Vaggie sighed, her shoulders slumping further. "I heard one of Angel's songs. I hope I'm reading too much into this, but it sounds like he uses his songs as a cry for help." She looked down at the Hellphone again, her grip tightening around it.
Charlie's heart sank at Vaggie's words. She knew Vaggie didn't always think all that highly about Angel given their passive-aggressive interactions, but when things did matter the two of them could find ground to see eye-to-eye. The gray skinned girl wouldn't say something like this if there wasn't truth behind it. "What did you hear?" she asked softly, trying to keep her own anxiety at bay.
Vaggie shook her head slightly. "It's not just the lyrics, Charlie. It's the way he sings them. There's so much pain in his voice, like he's trying to reach out to someone, anyone, who will listen." She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I can't shake the feeling that he's in trouble."
Charlie calmly took the Hell phone from Vaggie and noticed that part of the song "Poison" had played. She looked up at Vaggie momentarily, a mutual understanding passing between them that what they were about to hear would be painful. Pressing the play button, an eerie-sounding keyboard melody played before the dulcet tones of Angel's voice filled the room.
I got so good at bein' untrue
I got so good at tellin' you what you wanna hear
I disassociate, disappear
Yeah, yeah, yeah
So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp
Yeah, I know it's poison
You're feedin' me poison
I'm chokin' from the taste and I can't help but swallow
Up your poison
I made my choice, and
Every night I'm wasted like there's no tomorrow
Oh-oh, oh-oh
Any way you want me, baby
That's the way you got me, I'll be yours
My story's gonna end with me dead from your poison
Poison, I'm drownin' in poison
I'm fillin' up my glass but it's always hollow
Full of poison, I'm sick of the poison
Wish I had something to live for tomorrow.
Charlie sat in stunned silence as the song concluded. The last part of the song was heartbreaking to hear. The broken sound in Angel's voice wasn't just an inflection added for emotional depth; it was clearly meant to show that he was in a dire situation beyond what he could withstand. Resorting to literal poison such as drugs and alcohol to block out and numb the pain he was experiencing, but also the figurative poison of lies and abuse.
She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the tears that threatened to fall. The memories flooded back with a painful clarity. Cherri had mentioned that Angel would sometimes go into states where he was physically present but mentally elsewhere, drifting into a void that no one could reach. Then there were the moments when he'd erupt into hostile tantrums, lashing out at those around him as if fighting demons only he could see.
Her mind also recalled what Husk had said about Angel using a mask to conceal his pain, a facade he had worn for a long time. It made her wonder if the times Angel had made inappropriate comments or even showed off that porn film he had starred in had been attempts to tell them what was going on without directly saying it. Each act of bravado, each scandalous joke, could have been a desperate cry for help, masked in layers of sarcasm and deflection.
Charlie's heart ached with the realization that they had missed the signs, that Angel's cries for help had gone unnoticed or unacknowledged. She felt a crushing guilt, wondering if there had been more she could have done, more she should have seen.
"It's bad, isn't it?" Vaggie said softly, breaking the silence. She didn't need to say anything beyond that; the weight of their shared understanding hung heavily in the air. There were no words that could encapsulate the depth of Angel's suffering or the urgency of their need to help him. All they could do was acknowledge the painful truth and resolve to be there for him in whatever way they could.
"Why didn't I realize this was going on?" Charlie said, her voice trembling. She was torn between wanting to storm the porn studio in a fury and sinking into despair, knowing that all this time she had been failing one of the souls she wanted to help most.
Vaggie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "How were we supposed to know?" she asked softly. "He never tells us anything that's going on. All he does is act out in ways we want to discourage."
Charlie sighed deeply, her eyes distant as she recalled the events. "I should have realized at the studio," she said, voice heavy with regret. "When Angel caught sight of me, the first thing he did was try to get me to leave before Valentino noticed I had arrived. There were moments when his boss greeted me that Angel looked so uncomfortable, like he was silently begging me to go. Especially that one creepy moment where Valentino ran his tongue up my arm and asked if I would be interested in a job at his studio."
"What?!" Vaggie exclaimed, her alarm evident. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"
"I, uh…" Charlie hesitated, a look of guilt crossing her face. "Well, remember what I said about pushing too hard. There was one point where I caused an accident at the studio, and Angel was punished for it. At least, that's what I think happened. All I know is Valentino told Angel he wanted a private meeting in the dressing room. I had a feeling it was about me, and it wasn't good. I couldn't hear anything, but some of the stagehands and other actors whispered about the kind of treatment Angel was getting. When the door to the dressing room finally opened, Valentino came out dragging Angel with him. Angel had a bruised eye that I know he didn't have before. Then Valentino just tossed him onto the bed on the sound stage. That's when I felt myself going into a rage, but Angel stepped between us and told me to leave, saying my attempts to help were only making things worse."
Charlie's voice broke, tears welling up in her eyes. "The thing is, he knew he had to hurt me to get me to leave, and it was hurting him to know he had to do this. I glanced back at Valentino once, and he had a smug smile on his face like he knew Angel was doing exactly what he was ordered to do. I thought I had messed things up for him and that's why he was hurt. But with what Cherri told us days ago, and listening to this now, this has been happening for far longer than we knew."
Vaggie pulled Charlie into a hug, trying to offer some comfort. "We'll figure this out," she said firmly.
Charlie contentedly rested her head against her girlfriend's shoulder, appreciating the warmth of Vaggie's body. She closed her eyes, letting the moment of solace wash over her, but a nagging thought began to fill her mind.
During the trial in Heaven, she had been proud to see that Angel had at least proven he was worth considering for redemption. She had felt a flicker of hope, a belief that maybe, just maybe, they were on the right path. That is, until she realized that Heaven didn't have the faintest clue about how a mortal soul was accepted into their realm. It had been a harsh blow to her optimism, revealing the disorganization and disconnect in the heavenly bureaucracy.
Still, there were some things about the moment where Angel had stood up to Valentino that bothered her. She had set any questions or concerns aside because they didn't have anything to do with the trial..
But she had virtually forgotten about them with the revelation that Vaggie was an Exorcist, not a sinner as she had originally assumed when she had found her. That revelation had turned her world upside down, adding layers of complexity to their already difficult mission. Vaggie's past, her fall from grace. It had shifted the dynamics of their relationship, making Charlie see Vaggie in a new light.
And then there was Adam announcing that he would attack the hotel first, purely out of spite, when he arrived for the extermination. The malice in his voice, the cold, calculated threat, had sent chills down her spine. It was a stark reminder of the dangers they faced, the uphill battle they were fighting. Charlie knew they had to be prepared, not just for Angel's sake, but for everyone at the hotel. These forgotten thoughts swirled in Charlie's mind, creating a storm of emotions.
"Vaggie," Charlie asked, her voice tinged with concern, "what did Valentino mean when he said he owned Angel?"
"Huh?" Vaggie responded, taken aback and momentarily confused.
Charlie leaned in slightly, her eyes wide with worry. "When we were in Heaven, there was that moment when we were observing Angel and the others in that club. When Angel mouthed off at Valentino, that Moth Man said something about owning him. And Angel admitted that it was true, but that only extended to the studio. I had wondered about it then, but didn't think it mattered at the time. But now, I can't stop thinking about it. What if it's something we should be aware of?"
Vaggie's expression shifted from confusion to deep thought. She sighed and looked at Charlie, her eyes filled with worry. "I remember that moment too, Charlie. It was...oh no, Charlie...when Angel agreed that Val had ownership over him, he had said 'You own me at the studio like our deal says.' I'm sorry, but I think Angel may have given Valentino ownership over his soul, that's why he stays with him."
Charlie's face paled. "But that..." she stammered, "people only resort to deals with Overlords if they are desperate, or if they are new to Hell and don't realize what they are agreeing to."
Vaggie nodded solemnly. "From what he said in the song, it seems like he knew it was a mistake, something he should have seen from the beginning. Valentino preys on the vulnerable, and Angel... he might have thought he had no other choice."
Charlie's eyes filled with determination. "We can't let this continue. Angel deserves better than being trapped under that Mothman's control. But if his soul is part of the deal, how can we break it?"
Vaggie bit her lip, deep in thought. "I don't like to say it, but I think we may need to turn to Alastor for answers. He knows the intricacies of deals like this better than anyone."
Charlie nodded, her resolve firm. "Then that's what we'll do. We'll talk to Alastor and figure out a way to help Angel. No one should have to be a slave to someone else's whims. Least of all, someone who is part of this family."
Angel violently coughed as his head was pulled up from the basin of ice-cold water. His lungs painfully burned from the cold water he had inhaled in his struggle to breathe. His entire body convulsed with each breath, and he shivered uncontrollably as the freezing water streamed down his furry body, soaking his clothes and pooling around his feet.
"Now then, Angel Dust," Valentino snarled, his voice dripping with disdain. "You will tell that princess who likes to stick her prissy little nose where it isn't wanted, that you are moving back to the studio."
Angel's chest heaved as he fought for air. "It won't work," he managed to say through chattering teeth. "They'd suspect something was up."
"Then make it work," Valentino growled, stepping closer, his shadow engulfing Angel's trembling form. "I may have power over you here, so you still do as I tell you."
"Charlie isn't the stupid girl you believe she is," Angel said defiantly, his voice a raspy whisper. His defiance earned him another brutal dunk into the icy water. His head was forced under, the cold biting into his skin and numbing his senses. Panic set in as he struggled against the firm grip holding him down, his lungs burning with the need for air. Minutes felt like hours before he was finally yanked up again.
"I am becoming sick and tired of this childish game you are playing," Valentino said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble as he tossed Angel aside like a discarded rag doll. The spider demon coughed and gasped, his lungs straining to draw in the rancid air of Hell. Even though he was already dead and wouldn't succumb to cold or drowning. The pain and the chill was still very real, a torment that made him long for a second death. Just as he began to regain his bearings, Valentino summoned the smoky-red chain that symbolized Angel's enslavement. The leash-like chain snaked around Angel's throat and yanked him forcefully to his knees, its grip solid and unyielding.
"Let me remind you… Bitch… I own you," Valentino growled, his eyes glowing with malevolent fire. "You are bound to me by contract. If it wasn't for me, you'd still be Anthony, a no-name slut who sucks off people's junk in a dive bar toilet for a living. I made you who you are, I'm the one who made you "Angel Dust". You have me to thank for making you a star, and you show your gratefulness by joining Lucifer's daughter in this whole nonsense she's involving herself with. Do you honestly believe she can get you to Heaven? What has she actually done for you, given you a home? A familia? Don't make me laugh. You know why her Papito was kicked out of Heaven, right? He saw himself as better than God, and when no one agreed, he led a rebellion. Like Lucifer's rebellion, his daughter's ambitions will be for naught and her hotel will crumble, especially once the Radio Demon gets bored of whatever he is seeking there. What have I given you? I've given you fame, I've given you notoriety, I've given you your own room here at the studio, that pig you care so much about. I've given you a career and protection from your own Papa and family who wish to see you erased. Don't tell me you want to turn your back on all that, just for a delusion."
"I…" Angel started to say. His mind was a foggy mess, the sweetened smell of Valentino's cigarettes making it hard to think straight. The water torture had sapped his strength, leaving him vulnerable and susceptible to the seductive haze of Valentino's influence.
"Answer me!" Val demanded, his voice a whip cracking through the haze.
"No… Valentino," Angel choked out, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.
"Good boy," Valentino said, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "You may go. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow." Angel obediently got to his knees. A couple of stagehands who had been standing by moved quickly to undo the cords that bound Angel's arms behind his back. He winced as the circulation returned to his limbs, his muscles screaming in protest.
Slowly, painfully, Angel made his way to his dressing room. Each step felt like an eternity, his body weighed down by exhaustion and the lingering chill of the icy water. He quickly changed into his street clothes, but the dampness in his bones refused to leave. The couch in his dressing room looked inviting, but he knew better than to linger.
Leaving the room, he walked down the dimly lit hallway to the main entrance of the Porn Studio. He paused at the door, noting that it was spitting rain outside. The cold wind howled through the cracks, promising a miserable journey ahead. He still had a long walk before he reached the hotel. Without a second thought, he opened the door and stepped out into the cold, wet night, the rain mingling with the tears that he refused to acknowledge.
The song "Hidden Away" is a song sung by Josh Groban.
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Price of Freedom