Hazbin Hotel: Another Adam

POV Angel Dust

Bitch. How I hate myself. Every goddamn day, waking up in this fucking Hell, I curse the moment I signed that damn contract. Valentino. Bastard. Scum. An overgrown moth with sadistic tendencies and a control mania. And yet, once… once I thought I loved him.

Yeah, fuck, you can laugh. Angel Dust, the famous porn star, was in love. Head over heels. Like a complete idiot. When I first ended up in Hell after my pathetic human life (which I diligently try to forget, but it still haunts my nightmares), everything seemed so… refreshing? Yes, Hell is a shithole full of crap and violence, but after that "life," during which I constantly dreamed of death, here at least there was some… Development? I met Valentino almost immediately. He was just so fucking cool: influential, rich, self-confident. He noticed me, appreciated me. Said I had talent, that I would become a star. And I believed him. For the first time in many years, someone saw in me not just trash, but… potential? He surrounded me with luxury, attention, gave me gifts, paid compliments. I felt needed, valued... Loved?

And my acting career, which I dreamed of in life, skyrocketed here. Albeit in a specific genre, but so what? This is Hell, baby. It has its own rules. And I was good. Very good. I became a star, and all thanks to him. Valentino. My patron. My lover. My… master?

I thought this was happiness. My beloved beside me, a successful career, money, fame… I helped him develop his studio, his empire. Felt like part of something bigger. And when he offered to sign a contract… for my soul… I agreed. Without hesitation. Fool. A conceited, infatuated fool. I thought it was just a formality. A sign of trust. I was his "boy," his "little star." Why would he need my soul?

Oh, how I hated myself for that blind trust later! When the mask fell. When "love" turned into control. When "care" became humiliation and pain. When I realized that all this time I had just been his toy. His property. He didn't love me. He was just playing with me. Manipulating. Using. And the contract… the contract became a chain that bound me to him forever. Bastard! How I hated him! I only hated myself more… For letting this happen, for being such an idiot. If it weren't for Cherri Bomb, my only true friend in this Hell, if it weren't for her support and our joint drunken escapades with explosions and mayhem… I would have bought an angelic steel pistol long ago and blown my brains out. Or his. Or both…

And then I ended up at the Hazbin Hotel. One day, some assholes attacked me again, wanting a taste of a celebrity's ass, and as luck would have it, these bastards ambushed me, knocked me out, and were about to "use" me, but at that moment, Charlie intervened. I still can't believe it; the real princess of Hell saved me then, after which she invited me to her hotel and even promised to do everything to help me redeem my sins.

Nonsense, of course. Redemption? In Hell? After we all already fucked up our chance on Earth? What's the point? They're definitely not waiting for us in Heaven. And after Hell, I think, we'll just disappear. But… she was so sincere. So… bright, despite being the daughter of Lucifer himself. And Vaggie, her girlfriend… even though she looked at me like I was a piece of shit, I saw that she also believed in Charlie's idea. They both believed. In me. That I could become better.

And that… that was endearing. Hope. Sincerity. What I lacked so much in this cursed shithole. So I stayed. Not because I believed in "redemption." But because… because for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel so lonely. Because I wanted to believe them. Wanted to try. For them. To become… a little better?

If it weren't for this fucking Val! Oh, how I fucking hate him! Every time I start to feel… almost normal… when it seems like I can change something… he appears! Calls! Demands! Humiliates! Reminds me whose property I am! Drags me back into that filth I'm so desperately trying to crawl out of! I only hate myself more than Valentino… for my weakness, for that damned contract.

"I need a drink," I plopped onto a high bar stool in front of Husk, wearily dropping my head onto the counter. My skull was splitting from pain – a consequence of that crap Valentino had pumped into me. That bastard loves doing it, watching me lose control, watching me become just an obedient puppet in his hands. And I… I can't even really resist. The contract… "Strongest you've got."

"You look like shit," Husk grumbled habitually, wiping a glass with a towel. But there was something… different in his narrowed yellow eyes today? Not just irritation, but… almost sympathy? Nah, bullshit. Husk and sympathy? Don't make my four little gloves laugh. But he did pour the booze. And I deeply didn't give a fuck about the rest.

I need to put the mask back on. The mask of Angel Dust – cheerful, sassy, sexy. No one should see my weakness. My pain and despair.

"Pfft! Can't be!" I straightened up abruptly, theatrically crossing one leg over the other, leaning my elbows on the counter, feigning languid bliss. "Just a long shoot. Same old, same old!" I grabbed the glass Husk handed me and downed it in one gulp. Cheap swill burned my throat. "Hey! I asked for stronger!"

"My apologies," Husk, with a completely inscrutable face, refilled the glass with the same damn stuff. "Didn't realize at first that this is a night you want to forget…"

"Oh," I waved my hand, getting back into character. "Totally forgot you're our 'wise bartender' who's seen it all." I grimaced, dropping the act. My head was still throbbing. "Get to work and pour me some decent booze," I toss back the glass of whatever he poured.

Husk silently wiped the puddle on the counter after me.

"You know," he said quietly, not looking at me, "if you have problems, you won't find the solution at the bottom of a bottle." He raised his tired gaze to me. "Believe me, I've been looking there for a long time…"

POV Adam

Alright, well, so far everything is going according to canon; I think they can handle it themselves from here. Except maybe Charlie will need to be calmed down after all this; she likes to wind herself up…

This conversation between Angel and Husk is a key moment. I shouldn't have interfered before. And I won't interfere now – let them sort it out themselves: "Sometimes you need to hit rock bottom to find the strength to push off."

Should I kill Valentino? Yes, definitely. That bastard deserves the most agonizing death. And I'll arrange it for him during the next Extermination: in four months, there will be one less sadist overlord in Hell.

And his "Vee" buddies? That TV-head Vox and that little bitch Velvet, whom I collared at our first meeting? Well, I won't touch them for now. They weren't really fleshed out in the canon. Yes, they're clearly assholes too, but so far they haven't done anything that would warrant grinding them into powder. Let them live. For now.

I am Adam. The First Man. Archangel. I have a new home. A new love. A new purpose. And a new responsibility. Responsibility for my "children" – for humanity, which is now so defenseless against bastards like Asmodeus and Valentino. Responsibility for Heaven, which is threatened by Eve. Responsibility to Lute, who believes in me.

Killing is a sin. Even here, in Hell. I know this. I feel it with every particle of my Light-filled soul. But sometimes… sometimes murder is not a sin. It's a duty. A protector's obligation. A necessary measure. I will not become a psycho-killer reveling in blood, like the Godkiller, no. I will be a Warrior of Light. The punishing hand of the Lord (Well, or of Light, but that sounds more epic). The one who brings retribution to bastards who deserve it. The one who protects the innocent. So be it. No more doubts. No more hesitation.

Nevertheless, I've done my deeds – made sure everything went according to plan, however, I don't really have any "global" plan. Eve could start acting at any moment, and how am I supposed to counter that? Finding her is impossible, but something has to be done, right?..

A Hellish Google search for: "My ex went nuts and wants to destroy the world by infecting all sorts of idiots with some crap, what to do?" yielded nothing. Hmm…

I have an idea. But it's… Not the most sensible one. To put it mildly.

She's using all sorts of sinners and demons for something, right? So what if I find all her "victims," and then… Cleanse them? Or at least isolate them?

Sounds good, only I can't determine Eve's influence – I lack both the knowledge and the skills, so I dumped this on Sera; she's thinking about it for now.

By the way, the Seraphim did talk to Lucifer. Yes, via holograms in the embassy, but they talked nonetheless. So, our "beloved" fallen seraph was kicked around, called names, had his face rubbed in the sh... dirt… After which they asked him what he, in fact, had found out. And he found out… Fuck-All.

That's right, fuck all.

And he swears he tried to find information about the Loa spirits, only the search led absolutely nowhere, which means it's a dead end. I won't retell the whole conversation, but the bottom line is this: Lucifer busts his ass but finds Eve, and in return, Lilith continues to sit around twiddling her thumbs in Heaven, but I can now dictate terms to that duck-lover. That's the deal; I'm the main daddy now, even in Hell. Nominally. Well, alright, I'll drop by his place later; who knows, maybe he'll dig something up, if he's lucky, of course.

Aha, a message from Sera just arrived. She writes that the artifact is fully ready for use and calibrated to my energy. She even came up with a name for it – "The Eye of Adam." Pompous, well, whatever. It looks like a small silver medallion with a blue crystal in the center. When activated, it should show Eve's "threads" of influence and concentrated Darkness. Well then, let's check it out.

I think I'll fly over to visit the birds. Time to play detective a little. And, perhaps, troll one overprotective owl-daddy again. Heh-heh.