Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Husk was sitting in a chair in Alastor's foyer, waiting impatiently. The dark hallway was accented by long crimson curtains with tattered ends, moving slightly with the breeze seeping through the window frames. 

The creak of the door disturbed the serene silence of the room, accompanied by the light crunch of wood under Alastor's feet, indicating that the homeowner had arrived. The front door, made of pine, opened, revealing the demon's antlers as he walked animatedly toward Husk, followed by a small figure with a single eye.

"My dear friend Husker, I didn't keep you waiting too long, did I?" Alastor said in his usual melodious tone, breaking the silence that hung heavily in the air.

"It's Husk," corrected the chimera in a curt tone, crossing his arms roughly before falling silent. 

Not receiving a response, Alastor smiled. "Well, I'll take that as a no," he replied dismissively. He turned to close the door behind him, ensuring that the woman accompanying him was also inside the foyer. 

Husk eyed him inquisitively, noting the tiny figure barely peeking out from behind Alastor. 

“Hmm?” Alastor hummed, noticing the winged cat's curiosity. “Oh! Where are my manners? Apologies, Husker. Allow me to introduce this lovely lady.” Alastor extended his arm dramatically, stepped aside, and bent down to the height of the smaller sinner demon. “She is Niffty, a very agile woman, but don't be fooled by that sweet face,” he gently pinched the two red cheeks of the woman, who giggled softly, hiding her sharp teeth with her hands. Alastor then straightened up, regaining his perfect posture. “She can be quite daring.”

Before greeting, the little demon shook her pink skirt and white shirt delicately, patting her legs softly to remove dust from the surface. Once finished, she approached Husk with palpable enthusiasm.

Husk's tail twitched with discomfort at Niffty's unexpected presence. He watched as the woman extended her gloved hand. “Nice to meet you!” she said energetically. After a brief moment of evaluation, Husk, observing with a cold gaze, took in every detail of her petite figure. Finally, he stood up and shook her hand firmly, surprising her. Despite his initial resistance, he couldn't leave the small demon's hand extended, at least not in front of the radio demon.

“Remember when I told you about that little project I had in mind?" Alastor continued, keenly observing how Husk frowned at the prospect of having to work with someone. Husk immediately pulled away from Niffty, his annoyed gaze quickly locking onto the taller demon's eyes. "Oh, please, don't look at me like that. Stop being such a hard-boiled cat.” Alastor joked, smiling.

Husk pondered before responding, “The junk shop?” The cat's voice sounded rougher than usual.

“An antique shop,” Alastor corrected instantly. “I secured a place in Rosie's district on 66th Street, and I thought Niffty would be your perfect companion for this little job. I'm sure you'll get along well.”

“I'm so excited to work with you,” Niffty added enthusiastically, moving closer to Husk in mere seconds.

“This is too much. Why do I always end up in the middle of your whims, Alastor? Stop messing with my life,” he grumbled, feeling irritation flow through his blood. He spread his wings, hitting the bookshelf, causing some objects to wobble.

His protests were completely ignored. “Well, I'm sure I'm not messing with your life,” Alastor continued. “Think about it, Husk. Niffty has an innate talent for cleaning and organizing, and you have… brute strength. Together, you could make this shop a charming place for aficionados of the good old days.”

Husk clenched his fists, the tips of his claws pricking his palms as a look of disgust crossed his face.

“If you think some sweet words and a couple of compliments will convince me, you're very wrong.”

The atmosphere grew tense, except for Niffty, who watched with bright eyes as the two sinners argued. She couldn't understand why Husk was so upset; if Alastor said they would make a good team, it must be true. Besides, she considered herself an obedient girl who met the standards of an exemplary woman. She saw no problem.

Husk looked defiantly at the radio demon, raising his chin without fear of the consequences. The cat's tail slapped against the wooden floor, making it vibrate like a whip.

The deer demon never lost his composure. “Husker, I thought you were more of a sensible gentleman, not a man who follows his instincts,” he said, adjusting his bow tie. “I'm not surprised you're an animal.” In some sick way that Husk didn't understand, Alastor loved to play with him, pushing him to the limits of degradation.

The chimera just bit his tongue, the feeling of helplessness coursing through his body as his jaw clenched. He had no choice but to accept the deer demon's request.

“Well? Cat got your tongue?” Alastor asked with an air of false innocence, approaching the old cat, backing him against the chair behind him.

The cat pondered a bit, raised his head, and looked into the eyes of the demon dressed in shabby red clothes. Now he had to choose his words carefully. “Fine. It's not like I have a choice, right? I'll work in your antique shop anyway…” His voice sounded hoarse.

Alastor wrapped his arm around Husk's neck, guiding him toward the door. “Wise decision, my Husker! Wouldn't it be splendid if you started right now? I'm sure you remember the details of that conversation, and the lovely Niffty already knows what to do,” his tone became more animated. “Let's go, my friend!” Alastor finished, pushing Husk outside, with Niffty running behind him onto the street.

Now, the two sinners walked toward the radio demon's new acquisition. Niffty, with boundless energy, kept trying to strike up a conversation as they moved. Her steps were light and quick, matching the chimera's pace.

“Do you enjoy cleaning?” she asked enthusiastically, excited about the task ahead. Her high-pitched, vibrant voice filled the air around them, though for Husk it was an annoying buzz piercing his ears.

“Don't answer that. How could a man enjoy cleaning? Absurd. Now let me guess, are you a tough and rugged guy?” the woman rambled on, Husk grunted in disgust, feeling his patience wear thin. Niffty continued asking, her eye shining like a summer sun, radiant. With every word, Husk felt his patience crumble a bit more.

Suddenly, Niffty gave a small jump of surprise. “Oh! Did you see that?” she exclaimed, quickly moving to Husk's left, pointing towards the street where the lamplights flickered with a twinkling light, reflecting in the puddles of blood on the dirty streets. Niffty stopped to watch as a cannibal sank its teeth into a demon's neck, tearing the flesh mercilessly. “Ew, that was disgusting, don't you think?” Husk rubbed his temples in frustration and began to walk away, leaving Niffty behind. “Hey!” She quickly ran after him, as if she couldn't stand being more than a few feet away.

“Why do you work for Mr. Alastor? Did you make a deal or sell…?” Niffty couldn't finish the sentence before Husk interrupted her. “God! Can you shut up for a moment?” Unfazed, Niffty gave a mischievous smile, satisfied to have elicited a reaction from him. Husk frowned, gave her one last annoyed look, and continued walking, with Niffty skipping happily behind him.

After a couple of hours, they arrived at the place: an old building in deplorable condition. The display window was broken, and the walls were overgrown with weeds and mold. Husk stopped, observing the state of the place, and the small woman bumped into the cat's back, who simply watched for a few seconds.

“Well, here we are,” Husk sighed with resignation. When he was ready, he tried to open the door, but the handle resisted under his claws. Frowning, he tried again, this time pushing the door with his body. With a metallic creak, the door opened, revealing the darkness inside the abandoned building. Husk let out a growl, ears pinned back as he entered, closely followed by Niffty, whose eyes sparkled with curiosity.

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The cold, damp air, heavy with the stench of decay, mixed with the gentle breeze that brushed against the sinners' faces, causing Husk to frown and Niffty to wrinkle her nose, though her enthusiasm didn’t wane.

"We better get started!" Niffty exclaimed, her hands now covered in yellow latex gloves. Her bright eye quickly scanned what was the main room, a chaotic mess of clutter and neglect. It was filled with dusty furniture, fine cobwebs clung to the corners of the ceiling beams, trash scattered across the floor, the wallpaper faded and dull, stained with old blood splatters from a long-forgotten fight.

"Oh my gosh! This place hasn’t been cleaned in centuries!"

The raulí wood creaked with every step in the sepulchral silence of the room. Between the furniture covered with dusty sheets, Niffty’s quick steps led her to the tall windows covered with ragged curtains. Her slender hands struggled to open them, and she breathed deeply as fresh air rushed in. The stench of rot still lingered.

"Well, there’s no time to waste," Niffty said, stepping away from the windows.
Husk, glancing around with resignation, stared intently at the bloodstains.

"Ah, contemporary art. I always wondered how well blood splatters would hold up after a hundred years," he commented. His wings twitched slightly as he noticed the dust swirling around, settling in the air with every movement.

Waving her hand a little to clear the dust, Niffty replied, "Ah, don’t worry, Husker! It's nothing I can’t handle!"

Husk muttered something unintelligible in response, probably a random curse.

As Niffty began working with frantic energy, pulling off the sheets and moving furniture with enthusiasm, she waved her hand swiftly in the air, summoning a feather duster that appeared before her. With a delicate gesture, she flicked it, and a cloud of dust dispersed around her. Then, she slid between the furniture, gently dusting each surface.

Husk rolled his eyes and slowly walked toward an old oak table covered in yellowed papers and trash. His claws gently grazed the dusty surface, his hand gliding along the edge until something caught his attention—a porcelain doll. He couldn’t deny he was curious.

"So this is what Alastor had in mind?" he thought.

Niffty noticed him handling the doll carefully between his large claws. "It's a cute doll, isn’t it?" she said, darting over to the old cat in a flash.

With a quick movement, she ripped off one of the sheets covering the furniture and spread it out, improvising a trash bag. Without much care, she swept the yellowed papers, wrappers, and accumulated trash off the table with her free arm, some objects falling to the floor with a dull thud as she dragged everything into her makeshift bag—except for the porcelain figure.

Niffty paused for a moment, her quick steps halting as her gaze focused on Husk. She watched as he carelessly dragged trash around. Her smile, so bright on her face, slowly faded into a grimace of disgust. Her small, agile fingers tightened around the feather duster handle.

She took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure, and rummaged in the pocket of her white apron until she found a yellow cloth. With a touch of ingenuity and skill, she set out to make the table, where Husk stood, gleam. Her small feet quickly carried her toward the old table, and without hesitation, she straddled it, as it was taller than her. In silence, she planted her knees firmly on the table and began scrubbing the dusty surface with the cloth, her hands moving with precision, focused on her task. A deep voice interrupted her work.

"What do you think you’re doing?" Husk growled, his voice rough like the old wood she was cleaning.
Niffty barely glanced up, her tone casual as if it were all a game. "Helping you clean. This place isn’t going to clean itself." Her words, light yet determined, made Husk’s blood boil. How could she be so nonchalant about all of this?

"I don’t need help from a brat," Husk spat with disdain, tossing the improvised trash bag into a corner of the room carelessly. "And I don’t remember asking for your help," he muttered, crossing his arms with a sneer.
Niffty pressed her lips together, pausing her work for a moment. "I’m not a brat," she replied firmly, though her tone tried to remain calm. "And besides," her hand gripped the cloth tighter, scrubbing harder, "don’t ever clean like that again." Her words carried a mix of reproach and contained frustration.

"Listen, kid, I don’t need anyone telling me how to do my job... or not do it," his tail tensed slightly. "Do whatever the hell you want, but don’t bother me again." With a harsh movement, he stepped away from the table, his gaze fixed on the surrounding mess.

She watched him walk away, then returned her attention to the table. An insect had crawled onto it. Niffty’s delicate hand became a fist, crushing the insect instantly as it neared her. "Pests," she muttered, flicking the insect away with disdain, shaking her hand before returning to her task of polishing the table’s surface.

As Husk disappeared through the doorway into the next room, Niffty couldn’t help but feel compelled to follow, stepping after him. Every one of her movements was quick and determined, while he struggled to ignore her presence.

Just when Husk thought he could finally enjoy a moment’s peace in the next room, the woman’s sharp voice echoed between the walls.

"You know, Husker?" Niffty began, walking behind him in that same light tone she always used, as if she were sharing a secret.

"This place could be really beautiful if we cleaned it right. Imagine how the sunlight would shine through those windows if they were spotless! And the furniture... Oh, they could have so much life again!"

"Stop calling me Husker," Husk growled, visibly annoyed.

Niffty just laughed, as if his words were an inside joke. As she continued cleaning, her movements were so fast and determined that it seemed like nothing could stop her. However, Husk could feel himself getting closer and closer to losing his patience. Not just with Niffty, but with this whole damn place and its endless problems.

"This is a waste of time," Husk muttered to himself, running a hand over his face as the dust continued to swirl around him. "Alastor and his damn ideas... Why the hell did I agree to come here?"

Niffty, ignoring his internal monologue, kept working frenetically, straightening fallen books and picking up fragments of broken wood. Even though the mess seemed to be getting worse, her enthusiasm didn’t wane.

"Don’t worry, Husker! This will be done in no time!" she said with a smile, sliding a duster across the floor, kicking up even more dust.

Just when Husk thought things couldn’t get worse, Niffty, in her eagerness to clean everything, accidentally knocked over an old, dusty bookshelf that was on the verge of collapse.With a deafening crash, the shelves and their contents tumbled down, scattering debris and dust all over the room. Husk, now covered in dust and visibly irritated, let out a growl of exasperation.

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Routine had become unbearable for Alastor, and Husk knew it the moment he stepped into the parlor, illuminated by the eerie green glow of the gas lamps. Alastor lay on one of the sofas in front of the fireplace, his back straight and chin raised, staring intently at the green flame that crackled.

An electric hum floated in the air, barely perceptible, but enough to make Husk's ears flatten against his skull. A shiver ran down his spine, and for a moment, his paws were rooted to the hardwood floor. He hesitated, glancing quickly toward the door.

But Alastor, without even turning, offered a smile. "Come in, Husk," he commanded, as if he had read his thoughts. Alastor's shadow stretched across the wall as the green flame danced more intensely.

Husk swallowed, his gaze darting toward the door, considering the possibility of escape. Instead, he clenched his fists and forced himself to look directly at Alastor's slender figure. "Didn't you hear my order, Husker?" Husk forced himself to approach the individual sofa in front of Alastor and the fireplace, dropping heavily onto the hard cushion.

Alastor began the conversation: "Tonight I will make a radio broadcast, it will be an unforgettable show." His eyes locked onto Husk's.

The feline coughed, the discomfort growing inside him, tensing every muscle. "Alastor, I don't think... it's wise to do another of those 'shows' right now," he tilted his head down, trying to hide his growing nervousness.

Alastor offered a crooked smile. "Oh, but isn't that what makes hell more interesting?" The feline's tail swished from side to side. "It really seems a shame that you don't participate in my shows, at least you could listen to the wonderful screams," Alastor added, crossing his legs, one over the other. He watched Husk out of the corner of his eye, waiting for a response. The feline only frowned weakly. "At least you should be more grateful for it, Husker."

"I will never participate in your radio transmissions and you know it," he spat, not giving in. "Just listening to those sounds... they disgust me, and even more so the way you narrate what you do." His claws scratched at the carved wooden armrest as his tail swished against the cold floor.

Alastor firmly tapped the base of his microphone against the floor. "Husker, don't test my patience right now." The tension and electrical hum intensified in the air, and Husk shrank into the sofa, fearful of every word that came out of Alastor's lips. With a cough, he spoke again: "MY audience awaits him, especially my most loyal listeners." The fabric of the sofa felt rougher than Husk remembered. "Let's just say they're getting tired of always hearing the same thing and the old anecdotes no longer captivate my audience." Looking away, Husk said in measured words, "Alastor, aren't you thinking of taking down another overlord?"

"Oh no! It's not the time for that yet, don't rush me, I assure you that the overlords who are on the rise right now, I won't touch a hair on their heads," Alastor paused. "But it would be fun to annoy one of them," he gave a soft chuckle. "Although this show would be a little sport hunting, I haven't done one in a long time," he digressed into his thoughts and older memories.

"So what is it that you want to discuss?" Despite the tension in his stomach, a growing curiosity compelled him to pay attention to Alastor's words. "A little agreement," and, as if it were a trick worthy of an illusionist, Alastor leaned towards Husk, slowly extending his arms. With his left palm empty, he slid his right hand over it, and in a fluid movement of his hands, the green glow of the gas lamps seemed to intensify, casting shadows that stretched and rippled on the walls, turning the room into a kind of dark and silent theater.

With a smile, Alastor watched Husk's reaction, who, still silent, watched him cautiously. Alastor twirled the deck between his fingers, before extending it towards Husk. "Do you remember it?" he asked in a playful tone, the green glow of his eyes intensifying.

Husk lowered his gaze to the deck, the symbol of a time when he believed he could control his luck and that of others. He felt the urge to take it, but kept his claws dug into the edge of the sofa, his muscles tense.

With a deep sigh, Husk crossed his arms, a defensive gesture that tried to hide his insecurity. "What do you want in return?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound firm.

Alastor stood up, tucking the cards into one of the pockets of his trench coat. "Always so eager," as he circled the sofa, positioning himself right behind Husk. The silence stretched out, broken only by the low hum of static in the air.

Husk tensed even more, noticing how Alastor's hand, which rested casually on the back of the sofa, was barely inches from his ears. "With you it has always been a bet." Alastor's closeness made him feel suffocated.

"Well, that's a fun way to look at it, but you're good at betting, or am I wrong?" Alastor's smile turned sharp, his slender hands moved with an unsettling calm, toying with the feline's ears, caressing just behind them.

A shiver ran down his spine the instant he was touched by the cold fingers. "That's all in the past," his voice was laden with nostalgia, but he didn't allow himself to show it to the deer, he wouldn't give him that satisfaction. His head recoiled from the touch instinctively, moving away from the icy hands. "Besides, what do you gain by giving me my cards back, huh? You don't do anything without getting something in return." Husk snorted, averting his gaze towards the fireplace where the green flames rippled and flickered.

Alastor reached out again with his hands for Husk's ears, leaning in as far as the sofa would allow, caressing them once more.

"Me? Gain something more?" His voice resonated softly, almost melodically, but laced with an implied threat that ran deep through Husk. "I have your soul, your loyalty. You are my servitude, Husker. Everything you do, everything you are, already belongs to me. Alastor smiled, leaning in close enough for the reflection of the green fire to shine in his eyes. "So tell me, do you want to bring back a piece of your past?"

Husk gritted his teeth, his tail hitting the floor harder. He couldn't deny it, Alastor was right.
"Do you think I'll sell myself that easily?" Husk's deep voice echoed in the room.
"Of course not, I just thought you'd love to have your cards back, to shine again with your double-edged weapons and give nothing in return." Alastor murmured so stubbornly, softly and enveloping, in such a clear way that Husk had never heard, It was a voice that made you forget the danger, promising the deepest desires.
"Just give me some time to think about it," he replied cautiously. "If I accept, I'll do the errand in exchange for the cards."
Alastor smiled, showing a row of sharp teeth that gleamed with a malicious light.
"But, if I don't accept, there will be no reprisals," Husk added, trying to maintain control of the situation.

"Fine," Alastor conceded with a soft laugh. "But I'll only give you until tonight to decide."
Silence took over the room, charged with tension and broken promises. Husk knew that Alastor was not a man to be told no to without consequences, but the idea of having his cards back in his hands was too tempting to ignore.

The night would be long.

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