Chapter Text
A wiry static crackled through the air as the radio on the bedside table suddenly burst to life with a blood-curdling shriek, the distorted scream of a damned soul echoing through the room as smoky figure materialised from the ground. The Radio Demon, Alastor.
He smoothed down the lapels of his coat as he hummed a melody. The thrill of his recent kills still coursed through his veins, his eye twitching with lingering adrenaline.
Alastor let out a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself as he brushed back the sweat-dampened strands of hair clinging to his forehead.
He paced the room as he attempted to regain his composure. Alastor knew all too well what was happening to him, this restless, insatiable urge that consumed his every thought. It was that time of year again, the season of lust and desire that gripped Hell with an iron fist.
In the seven long years of his absence, Alastor had been spared this annual torment, his infernal nature muted by the weight of his deal. But now, with his return, the demon's true appetites came rushing back with a vengeance.
A knock at the door startled Alastor out of his agitation. He paused, his eye twitching as he clenched his jaw, before stalking over to the mirror to assess his appearance. Satisfied that he still cut an imposing figure, he called out in a voice tight with tension.
"Yes? What is it?" Alastor snapped, his teeth gritted as he awaited the response.
To his surprise, it was Charlie who stood on the other side of the door, a bright smile on her face and a pink envelope clutched in her small hand. "Someone dropped this off in the mailbox!" she chirped. "It doesn't say who it's from, but it was addressed to you. Could it be...a secret admirer? Ooh, or maybe-"
But before Charlie could finish her speculations, Alastor had snatched the envelope from her grasp, his long fingers closing around the delicate paper.
Alastor took a deep, calming breath, trying to steady himself as he spoke to Charlie. "Thank you, dear. If that's all, would you please excuse me?" His words were measured and polite, a stark contrast to his earlier abruptness. It was clear that he was making an effort to remedy his earlier rudeness, as he usually maintained a more composed demeanor when interacting with the hotel staff, especially Charlie.
Without waiting for a response, Alastor shut the door firmly. He stood there for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he clutched the letter in his trembling hands.
With a sense of urgency, Alastor began to examine the envelope, searching for any signs that it had been tampered with or opened previously. He noted with relief that the seal was still intact, the wax unbroken and the paper crisp and clean. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips as he realized that the letter had not been read by prying eyes.
However, a flicker of unease crossed Alastor's face as he remembered his specific instructions. He had always made it clear that any correspondence for him was to be delivered directly to his tower, not left at the hotel's reception desk. And yet, here was this letter, placed in the hands of the first demon who happened by.
He broke the seal of the envelope and pulled out the letter inside.
Dear friend,
It would be a great pleasure for me to fulfil your request, I have just the girl in mind and I’ll arrange for you to view the filming discreetly.
I’m unclear on how urgent this is however. If you would like this for tomorrow, it can be arranged but you must understand that with short notice it will be a further stretch of funds. $500,000
I eagerly await your response
Valentino
Alastor's gaze drifted downwards, his eye widening as he noticed the prominent strain of his erection against the fabric of his tailored pants. The ache in his groin was already unbearable, his body screaming with a desperate need that could no longer be ignored. He needed this, needed her, with an urgency that consumed every thought and desire.
A low, feral growl rumbled in Alastor's throat as he reached for the quill and parchment on his desk. The hefty price tag Valentino had quoted barely registered in his lust-addled mind, his predicament far outweighing any concern for the exorbitant sum. With a shaking hand, he dipped the quill in the inkwell and began to scrawl his response.
As soon as the final word was written, Alastor folded the letter, his heart pounding in his chest as he sealed the envelope with a flick of his wrist. He summoned one of the tormented souls he kept in his employ, the wretched creature materializing before him with a startled yelp.
"Take this letter to Valentino, and see that it reaches his hands posthaste," Alastor commanded. "And if I discover that you've so much as glanced at its contents, I shall make the torments I've subjected you to thus far seem like the sweetest of mercies. Do I make myself clear?"