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This was it, Alastor’s favorite day of the year; the time right after the exorcists had picked off the weak sinners.
The bodies were fresh, littering the pride ring.
It made for an easy meal.
He wandered through the streets, deciding which candidate looked fit for his feast. He preferred something still a little alive, still twitching. Alive enough that if someone sympathetic saw them on the streets of Earth, they’d stop to help- probably call an ambulance. But down here? Let’s just say someone brain-dead can have a new purpose in life. After all, truly dead meat never tasted quite as good- and come on, it was never quite as fun either. But too alive, and it defeats the whole purpose of looking for an easy meal in the first place.
Alastor looked around, hearing some odd noises coming out of a nearby alleyway. Curiosity killed the cat, but Alastor had always been a fan of the second part of the saying- satisfaction brought it back. He walked over, a new stride in his step. The site was wet, with gross puddles covering the ground from the scream rain a few minutes before. It was still muggy and miserable- Alastor’s favorite mood. He stepped over everything without hesitation and ventured deeper into the shadows. It was clear his prey had yet to notice him.
“What a pathetic display, Vox. Get up.” Alastor smiled down at the trembling TV.
His imposing figure loomed in the alleyway, near yet distant.
Vox shifted to face Alastor. He tried to stand but failed, slipping in a puddle. He groaned, catching and stabilizing himself against the wall with one arm and holding his stomach with the other. Sticky wet blood covered his torso as his fingers gripped the concrete wall hard.
Alastor stared at Vox and his pathetic whining. Vox, who was practically grinding against the concrete wall.
How easy would it be to press his fingers down hard and simply break his screen? He imagined how the glass would shatter, covering the alley floor and cutting his hands to pieces. He could pick apart his circuits and boards, twisting up his dangling wires and cords. Would Vox like it if he tied them into a cute little bow? If he switched around some USB-C cables, would they all fit in different slots? What would happen? Would he writhe in pain or pleasure? Hard to tell. Guess there’s only one way to find out, the hard way.
Vox groaned again, “A-Alastor, you ffffucking asshole, I can’t deal with you now! The water got into my wounds and-and- fried my ram… it’s m-m-making it hard to move-e-e- ughhh…..” His screen sputtered in and out, glitching out his voice. He struggled to keep himself upright, falling to one knee.
“Hmmm, and just what are you going to do about that?” Alastor’s grin seemed to stretch impossibly wider, yellow on full display. He stalked forward, accidentally kicking what seemed to be some kind of homemade taser on the ground and into a puddle. It blew a few sparks, lighting up the alley for a few seconds. The shock traveled through the water.
“Ah- AHg, fuck-” Vox moaned out in response, his body automatically jerking in reply. He hit the wall with a small thump, muffling a whine. Looking up, he could barely meet Alastor’s eyes right above.
“A-Alastor… I need your help… I-if I can h-h-heat up enough, I could remove the water from my ram and fix my circuits…” Vox weakly grasped at Alastor’s pant leg. Begging. His eyes began to water as a result of the purely overwhelming everything.
He didn’t want to die.
“And just why would I help you, Vox?” Alastor grunted his name. It had been years since they were last in contact, and they certainly hadn’t ended off on a good note.
“P-please? I’ll do anything,” A single tear slipped down his screen. If he could get himself heated up just a little, he could get to safety and repair the exorcist-inflicted wounds.
“Anything?” Alastor bent down, caressing the edge of his screen. His gaze screamed hunger. A hand crept down before slowly coming back up, dragging Vox’s head and view back with it.
Vox nodded, his eyes wet with tears yet to be shed. He was shaking like a leaf in a tornado. So submissive he was, not even trying to put up a fight against the other. Desperation was a desirable trait in Alastor’s book. Made it so much easier to get what he wants. Another whiny moan sounded from Vox’s throat as Alastor dragged his sharp claws down his neck and along his collarbone.
Several dark tentacles emerged from the shadows on Alastor’s back. They flailed widely for a few seconds, a stark contrast to Alastor’s normal, unnerving, unmoving figure.
“I’ll decide what to do with you later, sweet little pup. But for now? We’re gonna heat you up.” Alastor yanked up Vox with his tentacles, pinning him to the alleyway wall. They were smooth and cool to the touch; they weren’t soft, but they were just firm enough to comfortably cushion him against the rough touch of the hard cement.
“Mmmm yes… umf!” He grunted as Alastor pinned him harder, making quick work of his clothes. He ripped them off his trembling, feeble body, paying no mind to trying to keep them intact. Alastor always hated the tacky new-age clothing Vox always wore. Maybe he could eventually get Vox some nicer clothes.
He gently caressed Vox’s pliable body with the tendrils, exploring with curiosity. He slowly wrapped them around his wrists before roughly pinning them above his head. Alastor reached forward, dragging a claw down the middle of his body, stopping right before Vox’s V line.
A singular small tentacle explored curiously, ghosting over Vox’s torso. It was an ever-so-slimy feeling, prodding at his left side. It traced over the top of Vox’s gill slits, the edge barely poking into the top one.
Vox’s breath hitched, feeling it touch his gills. They had always been more sensitive than most parts of his body.
The tentacle slipped a few inches in, exploring the area.
“AlaSTOR-” Vox yelped, feeling a sharp pain in his side. Alastor just grinned in return, retracting the tentacle. He licked the end, giving Vox a conniving wink.
“Now what do you believe is the best way to… hmmm… warm you up, as you would say?” Alastor pressed the tip of his claw a bit deeper into Vox’s skin. A little bit of blood started to well up on the small incision.
“F-from the inside! Ahhhah the-the water got in through ermmm a stab wound on my back haha…. T-that’s how it got into my ram…” Vox wiggled a little, testing out his restraints. The tentacles just held him firmly in place.
Alastor peered behind Vox, noticing the small trickle of blood still leaking from his back. He smeared a little bit more on his finger, giving a lewd lick. He hummed, pressing his tongue to the small cut he made earlier. The taste of metal slides pleasantly through his mouth.
“Mmmm, Alastor?” Vox looked down, moaning at just the sight of him. He had dreamed of the day he would touch him. He just wanted Alastor to want him as much as Vox wanted him.
“I told you, pup, if I’m gonna help you, you’re going to have to repay me.” He smirked, licking again and pressing his tongue harder into the wound. Vox’s blood was much metalic tasting than most sinners. Was it the machinery, or was that just how it tasted?
Vox nodded enthusiastically, trying to push into Alastor as much as he could. He craved his touch. It was the one addiction Vox could never quit. Alastor deliberately took a step back, putting space between them.
“Now I’m gonna need something a bit sharper if I’m gonna open you up all nice and pretty for me. My fingers tend to cut up the skin a little too roughly for my taste…” Alastor dragged a few claws along Vox’s thigh for emphasis, causing several new gashes to ooze blood. He wiped the blood on the tattered ends of his coat.
“Perfect…” Alastor reached into his pocket, grabbing his 1920’s antique pocket knife. He gently placed the tip at the top of Vox’s sternum. He pressed down, and a loud pop echoed as he pierced the cartilage. He dug it in, cutting straight down the middle. He grabbed his sides, flaying him open like a piece of meat ready to be butchered.
His insides were made of some haphazard mix of organic organs and machinery. Wires wrapped around his insides, a mixture of blood and oil pumping through his veins. His ribcage was made of some kind of shiny metal with a now broken cartilage piece in the middle.
Vox sagged his head, humming lowly. Blood steadily dripped down his body, creating a considerable puddle below them. He looked at himself in the reflection. In the red of the puddle, he looked beautiful to himself for the first time since he entered this god-forsaken hellscape.
Alastor brought a hand forward, grabbing a rib at random; he caressed it, feeling the smooth metal and ridges. He gave it a little thump, hearing a hollow clang sound from inside. Vox whined in protest, twitching around.
He brought his mouth close to Vox’s ribcage. It almost resembled a bear trap from this angle, glinting dangerously in the dark light of the alley. He gave a tentative lick, sticking the tip of his tounge in a ridge located on the end. It sort of pinched his tongue, a bit of blood welling up on the end of Alastor’s tongue. He licked again, smearing his blood down Vox’s metal rib.
Alastor reached inside, grabbing a random cable. He gently coiled it around his pointer finger before yanking it harshly. Vox gasped, lurching forward as much as the tentacles would allow.
Alastor grinned, taking the cable to his mouth. He bit down, feeling the taste of rubber and metal in his mouth. It was different than the usual blood and flesh he consumed, but he found that he didn’t mind it. The metallic taste reminded him of the sweet, rich blood he craved.
Vox huffed, his mouth failing words. A bit of drool landed on Alastor’s nose.
“What is it? More?” Alastor looked up, red eyes staring into him. Vox had never felt like more of the god he so desperately craved to be. Maybe he never needed heaven when all he needed was right here. Vox nodded desperately.
Alastor smiled, pressing his face closer to the incision he made. He reached a hand in, grabbing a few wires nested around some kind of small machine. He pulled it closer to his mouth, giving the oil-covered organ a hearty lick. The thick liquid coated his tongue, leaving a sharp, bitter taste in his mouth.
He positioned a wire behind one of his teeth, pulling it forward with a small pop. The wire came loose from its port, sending a little shock through his mouth. It tingled, not in an unpleasant way. The sharp sting pleasantly burned his tongue as he pulled another wire out of its correct place.
Alastor did this a few more times, each jolt a little more painful than the last. He put the organ back into its proper place before moving on to another section of Vox’s insides. He filled around a minute, ripping a balanced circuit board from its place. Alastor popped it in his mouth, chewing down on the hard piece of machinery. It was good, but he was craving something a little more… chewy.
Vox jerked forward, a loud grunt echoing in the almost empty alleyway.
‘FFffffUCking hell, Alastor!! Don’t fucking eat me-” Vox demanded, trying to wiggle out to no avail.
“I do remember saying you would have to repay me,” Alastor raised an eyebrow.
“Y-yeah, I thought you'd like money or a new vacation front near the beach, not my fucking ORGANS,” he raised his voice, desperation creeping in. He didn’t know much more he could take, but god he wanted to. As long as Alastor was paying attention to him, the rest of hell didn’t matter. He would give up his overlord status and everything else he had worked so many years for, as long as he was the center of Alastor’s universe, that life didn’t matter to him.
“I came here because I wanted a meal, and I certainly still intend on it,” he purposely left out the part where he intended to butcher his victim entirely, making sure no part would be wasted. Alastor had always despised throwing away perfectly good food.
Vox shuttered, taking another good look at Alastor. He took a deep breath in, seeing his own lungs rise and fall in his peripheral vision.
“I suppose if that’s my end of the deal…” Vox closed his eyes. Maybe if he couldn’t see that fake smile on Alastor’s face, he could pretend Alastor still wanted to be his friend. His equal. His lover.
He just grinned in response, rummaging around his Vox’s insides. Vox tried his best to muffle any sounds. Alastor paused, reaching for a certain still organ. He pulled it out, giving a quick lick. The slimy surface coated his tongue, a smooth gelatinous feel. It was slippery in his hands, the wet surface gleaming in the blue light of Vox’s screen.
Alastor took a small bite, chewing thoughtfully. It tasted like cooked blood, in his opinion. Rosie had always been insistent on him trying new things. A hit of sugar hit his palate, the glycogen adding a pleasant depth of taste.
He carefully savored the full thing, the chewy texture quite enjoyable on his tongue. Vox occasionally made a small noise or two, not having the strength to engage any longer.
“You finally warm enough, my sweet?” Alastor smiled, Vox’s blood dripping from his mouth, joining the still-growing puddle beneath them. Vox’s breath hitched at the nickname, his chest painfully constricting.
A few tears fell from his screen, hitting Alastor in the face and dripping down his chin. Vox nodded, whimpering as a tentacle caressed the side of his screen. Why did he have to pretend to care? It always made it so much harder when he eventually left in the end.
“Alright, dear, but we're gonna have to patch you up now,” he summoned a small spool of lime green thread along with a needle. He certainly couldn’t have Vox bleeding out on him now.
Vox cried, watching Alastor thread it through the eye of the needle. He walked forward, placing the needle a quarter inch from the incision. He pressed in, guiding the needle through the wound. He did the same for the other side, making his first stitch. Alastor slowly stitched the rest of him up, savoring every little noise Vox made. He made sure to keep the blood cleaned up as he did his job, carefully wiping the wound every so often with a clean end of his coat. After a few minutes of this, a row of bright green stitches made in haphazard x’s cleanly sewed up the incision down his middle
Alastor gently let Vox down, taking off his coat and wrapping it around Vox’s still shivering body.
“You ready to go home, my dearest?” He wrapped an arm around Vox, helping him stay upright. He leaned on Alastor, putting most of his weight on him.
“Yes, please,” he leaned into the warm touch of his little piece of heaven.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗