Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

         The rain poured down as the train chugged by, causing a pleasing sound that almost lulled Vincent to sleep. Taking another sip of coffee, he looked out at the passing landscape. He marveled at the swamp that whizzed past him, seeming to stretch on forever…. Having spent most of his life in inner cities, he was unfamiliar with the country. It was thrillingly intimidating, the beauty mixing with the danger mother nature posed…. But he would be in the city once again soon. He was on his way to New Orleans, hoping to further his future. 

Vincent Whittman had just graduated from college, emerging with stars in his eyes. He had earned his degree in journalism, head and heart swollen with dreams of fame and fortune alike. The 23 year old had grown up enamored with radio, spending hours listening to the great reporters of his time. From the moment he had heard the smooth voice of Lowell Thomas as a teen, he was hooked. Begging his father for a cheap radio, he tuned in to discover several voices. From news correspondents to comedic personalities, he loved it all. 

Entering college, he fully intended to become one of the greats. Travelling and reporting the news of America. However, that all changed within the last year. While deep in his studies, the buzz of rumors were circulating his community and happened to catch his ear; a recent invention that would one day change the world of reporting and entertainment. 

The Television. 

From what he understood, It was simply a smaller version of a picture show. A device that could bring the magic of the silver screen to the homes of Americans everywhere…. The thought of this picture box and the implications it could have on the future of journalism was enough to make Vincent's head spin with excitement. 

His thoughts were broken by the sight of the approaching city, an excited yet nervous feeling filling his head. His plan was to travel America, trying his luck city to city until he found his fortune. If he was going to get into the ground work of this new technology, he knew he would have to create a name for himself first. There wasn’t a chance in hell that they would let some nobody take center stage….

He decided to make New Orleans his first stop, as there was a radio convention set to start the next day. Vincent hoped to make some friends in the industry, perhaps even meet his idols. In the radio world, it was all about who you knew. 

He prepared to grab his luggage as they approached the station, heart swelling with excitement of the future ahead. 

Walking down the street, suitcase in hand, the young adult marvelled at the city lights sprawled out before him. The hustle and bustle of the lively city was a lot to take in… He walked past several businesses and groups of people, noting the general sense of joy it all held. The heat in the air was intense, causing him to tug at the collar of his brown button up. Vincent travelled the main street until he finally saw a hotel sign, relief flooding him. He was more than ready to relax for the evening. Entering the lobby, he looked around to appreciate the decor. It was old and regal, clearly a historical building. With a breath of confidence, he approached the counter and gave a friendly smile.

“Hello! Checking in.”

The older gentleman looked up from the paper in his hand, looking Vincent up and down with a monotone expression. His face was rough, adorning a large amount of stubble. His eyes seemed to be teeming with exhaustion, dull and lifeless. The sour smell of tobacco wafted towards Vincent, causing his nose to wrinkle slightly. 

“How many nights?” The gruff voice asked, seeming almost irritated at Vincent’s presence as he grabbed the large log book behind him. HIs accent was thick, almost hard to understand.

“Um… I guess I'm not sure. Let's start with three?” The man nodded, writing something down. 

“Sign here.”

Vincent tried offering another smile, grabbing a pen and signing his name in the provided space. Handing it back to the gruff individual, he pulled out his wallet to pay. “I’m here for the radio convention! It should be a good time…”

The receptionist grunted, tallying up the price. “That’s great, kid…. Here's what you owe me.”

Vincent frowned slightly, cheeks turning red as he quickly pulled out the cash amount and handed it over. He took the key quickly, not wanting to continue this interaction any longer. Without another word, the rude man picked up his newspaper.  

“Enjoy your stay.”

Vincent left towards the hallway, still frowning. How he despised rude people….. He seethed inside his head, wishing he had the courage to snap back at the stranger. Next time… he promised himself, finally approaching the door to his room and inserting the key. Vincent entered the room to look around, noting it was much less impressive than the lobby. The floors were unclean and the air smelled musty. He sighed and closed the door behind him, noting that the bed didn't look very clean either…. But it would have to do. Once he made it in journalism, he would never have to deal with dirty hotel rooms and rude people ever again. 

Vincent stood outside the convention center, nervous and sweaty. He was wearing his best suit, dark blue with a red pocket square and a tie to match. Looking around at the people entering the building, he wondered if he was overdressed…. He looked to be the only gentleman wearing a suit and tie. Adjusting his collar nervously, he prepared to bump elbows with the circles he hoped he would one day be a part of.

Soft jazz greeted him as he entered, light and bouncy. He looked around at the large room full of people, all happily conversing and drinking. He could feel the nervousness creep up his spine, trying his best to put on a normal face as he ran a shaky hand through his brown hair. Despite their casual attires, most everyone had an air of professionalism. Vincent noticed the rows of booths, all showcasing the latest in radio technology.

He ventured closer, the devices catching his eye. Fascinated by innovation, he spent some time walking around to gawk at each one. One presenter introduced a portable radio, sleek and compact. Another went on and on about high fidelity sound, claiming nothing was better. He wondered briefly what his voice would sound like coming from its speakers….. He was enamored by all of them, yearning to make every model his.

“Hey, kid. You interested in taking one of these beauties home? I see you staring at the red one!”

Vincent looked up at the man who addressed him, blinking in surprise of the sudden interaction. “Uh… No, I’m sorry. It’s a bit too pricey for me right now…..”

The gentleman in the grey button up and brown slacks gave a fake smile, grabbing the stylish looking device and lifting it up to eye level. “Well, now, It doesn't get cheaper than this! There are some stores that sell these for double the price! Whaddya say?”

Vincent started stammering, feeling uncomfortable with the pressure this stranger was applying. “I a-appreciate it, sir. But I c-can’t…. Thank y-you though!” He offered a smile, taking a small step back. 

The salesman frowned slightly, obviously disappointed in the failed attempt. He set the radio down, shrugging.

“Your loss, kid.” He then squinted at Vincent, curiosity suddenly filling his face. He raised a brow.

“Hey… what’s wrong with your eye? Ya got a disease or something?”

Vincent could feel his face go red, always dreading the question that wouldn’t stop being asked. He was born with heterochromia, one eye green and one a shade of cyan. It didn’t affect his health, but he was constantly questioned and teased for it. As a kid, he was bullied relentlessly for his genetic condition. Misinformed parents would keep their children away from him, fearful that their kids would “catch the disease” as if it were a cold.

“N-No, It’s called heterochromia…. It’s a genetic-”

“Yeah, whatever kid. Now keep moving, I have potential customers to win over!”

Vincent went silent, the rude demeanor feeling like a slap in the face. His eyebrows furrowed in anger, fists clenching as he quickly spun around and walked away. He could feel his face heat up in embarrassment, quickly making his way to the bar in the corner. He sat in the bar stool, steaming at the audacity of the salesman. How dare he treat Vincent like that….. Who did he think he was? 

The barkeep approached him, giving a polite nod. “What’ll you have?”

Vincent's anger immediately subsided, turning to face him. “Oh! I don’t drink…..”

The man raised a brow, giving a small smile. “C’mon now. Its a party! How about this; I’ll make you something real smooth. You’d be crazy to not enjoy it!” He didn't give the young adult a chance at refusal, turning away to make the drink. He returned shortly after, handing Vincent a stout glass full of a brownish liquid.

“It’s called a Manhattan. All the rage! Enjoy.”

With that, the barkeep turned and left Vincent to his drink. He looked down at the glass, not sure what to do….. He didn’t have much interest in alcohol, his mother lecturing him of the dangers during prohibition. But… he didn’t want to seem rude.   

Biting his lip, he tentatively grabbed the glass. He rose it to his lips with shaky hands, building the courage to take a drink.

The alcohol was sharp and burned his tongue. His eyes widened, forcing himself to swallow before letting out a cough. Is that what all the fuss was about? He didn’t much care for it, his tongue continuing to tingle even after the liquid was gone.

Vincent’s ears perked as he heard a chuckle, glancing over to find the source. It was a man two barstools over, looking over with a smile of amusement. 

He wore a sharp red vest over a white button down, his bow tie adorning an intricate pattern and looking to be made from an expensive fabric. His hair was sleek and black, short and clean cut on the sides of his face. But the top of his head adorned a somewhat unruly plume, cascading onto his forehead in tight curls. Behind his glasses lay deep brown eyes, filled with an air of humor. His smile widened at Vincent’s reaction, creating soft laugh lines on his ebony skin. 

“First drink?”

His voice was as smooth as silk, his accent something Vincent had never heard before. It was exotic and whimsical, fitting the man it belonged to. However, there was something about it that was oddly familiar. 

Vincent was momentarily speechless, feeling his cheeks tint red once again. “Y-Yes, actually….” 

“And?” the mysterious stranger pried. “What do you think?”

He shrugged helplessly, trying to find the right words to say. “Well… It burns….”

This elicited a soft laugh from the man, propping his elbow on the counter to rest the side of his face on his palm. He gazed slyly at Vincent as he swirled his own glass of whiskey, ice softly clinking the glass. 

Vincent stared at the man next to him, mesmerized by his mystique. The sharp dressed fellow took a slow drink from his glass before returning his attention to the other, his eyes half lidded. “Well of course you don’t like it. Heaven knows who would enjoy that swill.” He flipped a coin on the table. “Barkeep! Get him a finger of Pikesville. Ten year. And put it over some ice, would ya? What are you trying to do, kill the poor dear?”

The bartender chuckled, complying with the request as he poured and set the glass in front of Vincent. 

“Thanks…” He said softly, accepting it. He looked down at the glass, feeling the deep brown eyes on him as he slowly raised it to his lips. Vincent made sure to take a smaller drink this time, bracing himself. It still burned his mouth terribly, but this time he could taste something more to it. Much smoother than the last, with a hint of something sweet. 

“Well?” Came the smooth voice, raising an eyebrow as he waited for the verdict.

Vincent gave a light nod and a half smile. “Not bad… It's sweet!” 

The stranger hummed with satisfaction, happy with the response. “Excellent palate, mon chéri. What you’re tasting is the caramel. Smooth, no?”

Vincent nodded in agreement, taking another small sip. It burned less this time, allowing him to enjoy the taste a bit more.

“Now then.” the coy smile almost purred. “What would your name be?”

“Vincent… Vincent Whittman… and yours?”

“Alastor. Pleasure.”

Vincent almost choked on his drink, suddenly realizing why his exotic voice seemed so familiar. “I’m sorry… Are you Alastor Louis Hartfelt? From the radio show?”

Alastor's swirled his whiskey, giving a soft chuckle. “At your service.”

Vincent’s eyes widened, immediately star struck. He couldn’t believe it; this entire time, he was talking to one of the biggest voices in radio.

“I-I listen to your show! It’s an honor, sir.” He was sweating again…… He tried to keep his composure, not wanting to scare him off. 

“I’m sure it is.” Alastor replied with a grin, cocking his head as he studied the awestruck man. “So tell me, Vincent. I'm guessing you aren't from around here….. What are you doing in the big city, hm?”

The question caught Vincent by surprise, taking a moment to answer. “I just came yesterday….. I'm here to start the search of finding my fortune. I…. I want to be in the radio business….”

This was usually when people would jest, pointing out his weak social skills might hinder his dream. 

But not Alastor.

He simply nodded, the smile never leaving his face. “How delightful. Is that why you’re here tonight? To immerse yourself in the world of broadcasting?”

“Yeah….. I guess I was hoping to meet some people in the business. Maybe get closer to earning my shot…”

Alastor chuckled lowly, cocking his head as he once again rested his face on his palm. “Well, here I am. Now…. sell me, Vincent.”

He blinked in surprise, not fully understanding the request. “I-Im sorry?”

“Here’s your shot, mon petit chou. Show me why I should put you on the radio.”

Vincent was speechless, his nerves taking over as he struggled to remember what he told himself he would do in this situation. Alastor's charm had caused his mind to go blank, only able to focus his attention on the eyes that bore into him. 

“Uh… I….”

Alastor shook his head, standing up straight and folding one leg over the other. “Hm…. I must admit, Vincent. I'm not convinced….”

The young man panicked, kicking himself mentally as he tried to get his brain to work again. “N-No! I graduated top of my class in Journalism…. My articles have won awards!”

Alastor gave a short laugh, taking a slow drink of his rye. “That's all well and good for the paper, mon chéri. But if you wish to join the world of radio, you must project confidence! Your voice must be strong and sure, ready for anything the world throws at you. Compris?” 

Vincent could feel his cheeks go red again, disappointed in his own short comings. Before he could think of an answer, Alastor rose from his chair. Glass in his hand, he gave a coy wink. “I hope we meet again once you have found your confidence….. Au revoir, Vincent!” 

Vincent watched him walk away, seeming to glide through the crowd. He tried to catch his breath, the entire experience having almost knocked him over…… 

He was so….. Smooth. Like the whiskey he held in his hand; Complex with a profile that Vincent couldn’t yet place. Mesmerizing and mysterious, leaving the rookie with an empty feeling. He turned back towards the bar, looking down at his drink as the ice slowly melted.

Try as he might, the radio host stayed firmly placed in his mind. For the next hour or so he sat at the bar, replaying the interaction over and over again in his mind….. 

That was the night Vincent’s obsession began.

Chapter Text

The soft creak of the old fan filled the room in a steady pattern, trying and failing to cool the air. Vincent lay on the bed, hands folded behind his head as he watched the blades spin. He looked over at the watch on the side table to realize it was morning. The brunette groaned in frustration, hands moving to rub his tired face. 

This was the second sleepless night he had endured, unable to quiet his thoughts….. Try as he might to close his eyes and drift off, his mind refused to cease pestering him with the same subject.

Alastor.

It had been a few days since the meeting at the radio convention. The interaction was a short amount of time, perhaps minutes even, yet Vincent was unable to stop replaying the moments in his head over and over. Those brown eyes that seemed to look right through him…. The silky voice that enveloped him with comfort…. The plume of curly hair that refused to stay put when he moved his head.…. Even when Vincent closed his eyes, all he could see was that coy smile stretching the expertly groomed pencil thin moustache.

He sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. He slouched forward, sighing as he put his face in his hands. 

What's wrong with me?.....

There were few things in Vincent's life that had taken up this much space in his mind. For years, his attention was primarily focused on journalism. Finding a story, chasing it down, and recording it through pen and paper for the entire world to enjoy. He didn’t have friends, he didn’t spend time with family, there were no special ladies in his life. Vincent's only focus was his work. And if journalism was the only thing that filled his life, he decided he would be more than content. 

But now…… now all he could think about was the mysterious radio host that charmed him into addiction. He craved to see him again. To hear that voice say his name…. He wanted to show Alastor that he could be confident and sure. Redeem himself and perhaps even garner praise.

Standing from the bed, he reserved himself to starting another tired day. Rummaging through the hotel drawers, he pulled out some clothes and quickly changed for the day ahead. Vincent decided he needed to go for a walk to clear his head and think about what he was going to do…. His dreams were still intact, and his fascination with upcoming innovations were still strong. This was his first stop on the path to fame and recognition, and he needed to stick to it. 

Grabbing his hat, he opened the door. Vincent almost jumped out of his skin, facing the unfriendly hotel receptionist he had met a few days before. The gruff man gave no reaction at the coincidence, his tired eyes showing no emotion. 

“Time to check out.” He grunted, his grating voice sounding as if he were gargling rocks. 

After regaining his composure, Vincent digested the words. He blinked in surprise. “W-What?”

The man spoke louder, crossing his arms. “It’s time to check out. You paid for three nights, you stayed for three nights.”

The young man stood speechless for a moment, voice failing him. Has it already been three nights? The time had seemed to fly by, unfortunately proving unproductive.

“Well? Don’t just stare at me, kid. Are you leaving or paying for another night?”

Vincent internally panicked at the question. He couldn’t leave yet…. The thought of leaving town without seeing Alastor at least one more time was something he wouldn’t be able to stand. He needed to get this monkey off his back so he could move on with his life….. “I’ll pay for another three.” He answered, quickly taking out his pocket book to retrieve more money.

Just….. Just one more encounter. And then he could move on…..

Vincent stood on the sidewalk, staring at the recording studio across the street. He tugged nervously at his collar, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. He knew Alastor was in there, currently performing his morning broadcast.

He had no idea how he was going to manage this interaction, knowing he couldn’t just walk into the building unannounced…. 

He considered walking up and down the street until Alastor left the building, putting on a show of pretending he was merely taking a stroll. 

“Oh hi, Alastor! Fancy meeting you here! I was just going for a walk…”

It seemed like the best and only plan he could think of, starting his walk along the busy sidewalk. Looking at his watch, he knew the hour long broadcast would be ending any moment now…. He panicked internally as he tried to walk as casually as he could, glancing over at the door every few moments. 

His cheeks reddened as he realized how strange he must look, walking to one end only to turn around and walk back down. But he didn’t stop, determined to manufacture an event that would hopefully end the torturous cycle he seemed to find himself in. 

He looked back down at his watch. The broadcast had ended a few minutes ago…. It would be any time now. Vincent continued his shameless march, keeping an eye on the door. He grew impatient as more time passed, wondering if what he was doing was smart…. His walking slowed, feeling more and more like he shouldn’t be doing this.

Just as he was about to give up on the endeavor, the door finally opened. 

Out stepped the man who had plagued the past 48 hours of his life; Alastor Louis Hartfelt. 

The onlookers heart stopped for a moment as he got caught sight. He was as stunning as Vincent remembered….. He wore a casual red button up tucked into sleek black slacks that fit his form perfectly. The smile that touched his lips was sly and relaxed, seeming to remain as unwavering as the night they met. The radio host walked with his head held high, each step a confident stride that left Vincent breathless.

He tried taking a deep breath, preparing himself to ‘run into’ the man who he so desperately wanted to notice him one more time. Then, to Vincent’s horror, Alastor reached the sidewalk and turned to walk in the opposite direction. 

No no no! 

Vincent internally panicked as his plan quickly unravelled right before his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, he started following him. He kept a good distance, staring at the hands folded behind his back. 

Oh god, what am I doing??

He bit his knuckle as he continued forward, desperately trying to find a way to make this work. Vincent imagined catching up with him to start a conversation, but quickly dismissed the idea after realizing how odd it would look….. He would scare the host off forever and never get to talk to him again.

I'm following him…. Why am I following him? 

The stroll went on and on, Vincent being careful to stay far enough away so Alastor wouldn’t realize what was happening. The suave gentleman kept a steady pace, never looking away from the path ahead. Vincent watched him with fascination, finding him mesmerizing even when he was merely walking down the street….

His heart rate quickened when Alastor suddenly stopped, entering a small cafe. Vincent stopped, contemplating what to do….. Could he use this to his advantage? Maybe he would walk in as if he were planning on dining, feign surprise to see Alastor, and begin the interaction.

“Oh hey, Alastor! Nice to see you! I heard this cafe is quite good, may I join you?”

 Yes. That was a good plan. He just had to play it cool…..

Using his hand to fix his messy hair, he built up his courage and walked towards the cafe doors. He pushed open the glass door, the soft bell ringing on the frame. Immediately he spotted Alastor, sitting alone at a table across the room. His head was turned away from Vincent, looking out the window.

Perfect!

Adjusting his collar, he gave a confident smile in preparation. Before he could step forward, a young woman appeared in front of him, blocking his path.

“Morning!” She greeted cheerfully. “Just one today?” 

Vincent was taken aback, stammering as his brain went into fight or flight. Unfortunately, he chose flight. 

“Y-Yes mam.” he replied meekly, losing all courage.

He followed her in defeat as she placed him at a table on the other side of the room, far from his target and any hope of an easy victory. She handed him a menu. “Let me know when you’re ready!”

“Thank you.” He muttered, cheeks red as she left. Vincent looked back over at Alastor, watching him sip his coffee. Well, this wasn't what he had in mind….. But it was still nice to be near him. 

I’ll do it as I'm leaving. He decided, lifting the menu to seem aloof. Yeah… that’ll be perfect. 

The young man ordered a black coffee, slowly sipping it as he stole glances of the back of Alastor's head. Even from behind he was a beautiful man…. Every action and movement was full of poise, like an intricate dance only he knew the moves to. 

Vincent must have drank a dozen cups of coffee while watching the man, enchanted by every little thing he did. He kept telling himself each cup was his last, and that he was going to go over to put his plan into action. But there was something about silently watching Alastor that filled him with contentment. Words were something Vincent might mess up….. Sitting and watching him, however, could never sully.

It wasn’t long before he watched Alastor get up and leave the restaurant, thanking the waitress as he glided out the door. 

This was how Vincent spent his days. 

In the morning, he would walk to the radio shop and listen to the smooth voice waft from the speakers of the display model. Then, before the broadcast was over, he would quickly make his way to the cafe and order a black coffee. 

Alastor would show up not too long after, choosing the same seat and ordering the same thing. Vincent would watch the man enjoy his pastry and sip his drink, looking out the same window. He would spend his lunch watching the delicate way he pulled the bread apart, giving a soft “mm” here and there. 

He would leave, and Vincent would wait an appropriate amount of time before leaving for his hotel room. Then, he would simply replay the day in his head over and over until it was time for sleep. 

He paid the gruff man more and more of his money, knowing he couldn’t do this forever but not knowing how to stop……He only had a set amount of money he had saved up over the years for this trip, and here he was spending all of it at one crappy hotel that smelled of mold. Just so he could continue this crazy ritual….. 

Watching Alastor had become an addiction. It gave him a sense of satisfaction he had rarely felt in his life... By day four he brought his notepad with him, spending his time at the cafe drawing the man who held his attention so tightly. It wasn’t long before he had filled countless pages with his face, each one smiling at him. 

He knew it was crazy…. But he began to feel as if he were truly spending time with him instead of watching from afar. He took note of each outfit, realizing with glee that his favorite color must be red.

Vincent felt as if he truly knew Alastor, creating details in his head to make the parasocial relationship feel more real. He imagined that Alastor lived in a Victorian style home, decadent red decor filling the rooms…. Pictures hung of him with other radio celebrities, sitting above several state of the art radios…. His favorite food would be something fancy, like lobster. But he hated vegetables. And at night, he imagined that he enjoyed looking up at the stars….. All of this fit the breathtaking man like a silk glove.

During week two, Vincent sat at his usual table with pencil in hand. He began his ritual of drawing the slim face, waiting for the object of his affection to walk through the door. He had just finished outlining an intricate suit, wondering if Alastor was one to wear a tie….

“My dear. Aren’t you just so creative? I would never wear a suit so gawdy……”

Vincent nearly jumped out of his skin, turning around to see the man who was looking over his shoulder. Alastor gave an amused grin, cocking his head at the flabbergasted Vincent. 

“A-Alastor! I, uh-”

“Is this seat taken?”

Vincent was sure his face was flushed pale, eyes wide in embarrassment as he shook his head no. The radio host hummed in approval, taking the seat directly across Vincent. He propped his elbows on the table, laying his chin atop laced fingers. His smile was almost teasing, brown eyes full of delight. But there was something else they held….. Something Vincent almost felt was dangerous. 

“Now, Vincent…..” The silky voice hit his ears like honey, causing his cheeks to go from pale to crimson. “Care to tell me why you’ve been following me?” 

The young man was speechless, desperately trying to think of an excuse or a form of denial…. Anything to hide what he had been doing for weeks now. “I-I….. Haven’t been following y-”

“Don’t lie to me.” The voice was suddenly sharp, piercing into Vincent like a knife to the heart. “I can handle most things, mon cheri. But being treated like I'm stupid is not one of them.”

The smile never faltered, but seemed to take on a different tone. One of impatience. Vincent realized quickly that Alastor already knew much more than he feared….. 

He looked away in embarrassment, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand as he tried to figure out how to tell the truth in a way that didn’t sound so……. Creepy.

“Well….. I-I wanted to try to meet you again…… talk about the radio business….. But I guess I h-haven’t built the courage to approach you yet…..”

Alastor raised an eyebrow, his smile returning to one of amusement. “For two weeks?”

Vincent felt his cheeks burn brighter, horrified to realize that he had known the entire time…. “I-I’m sorry!.... I never meant-”

The radio host interrupted him by reaching out and plucking the notebook out of Vincent’s hand. 

“Let’s see it. I’ve been dying to find out what’s in here…..”

Vincent stammered, panic setting in as he watched Alastor flip through the pages. “N-No! I mean…. It’s nothing, just…. I mean….” He desperately tried to come up with an explanation that made this all seem normal.

Alastor ignored his pleas, studying page after page with a soft chuckle. “Hmm….. these are quite nice, Vincent. Have you ever considered becoming an artist? Not nearly enough good ones these days.”

Vincent fell silent by the statement, feeling both surprise and relief that Alastor wasn’t angry…. At least, he didn’t think he was…… “Th-thank you.” He replied softly.

“But please, you must tell me…..” The hazel eyes became half lidded, the smile widening to show off his perfect teeth. “What is it about me that intrigues you so, hm? Do you enjoy my little show that much, mon petit chou? Or is it something else?”

He patiently waited for an answer, watching Vincent struggle to come up with something. He wanted to look away, but his eyes were held in a trance by the hazel gems that held a fire deep inside. 

“Uh…. I…..” This was a question that Vincent didn't really have an answer for…. He wasn’t entirely sure why the man across from him enchanted him so. It was a feeling that he had never felt before… Like a burning inside him that threatened to turn him to ash if he didn't feed it. There was just something about him that elicited a visceral reaction from Vincent. And he knew he couldn’t ignore it….

“I don’t know….” He finally replied, honest in his answer.

Alastor leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. He hummed softly, seeming to believe it. “Well. I can’t say I don't enjoy the attention. Heaven knows I’m somewhat of a glutton…. So how about this. Since you have become a regular patron here, why don’t you start joining me? I suspect I might enjoy the company.”

Vincent couldn’t help the dumb smile that was plastered to his face. “D-Deal.” He agreed a bit too quickly, a sense of excitement swelling in his chest. 

The radio host gave a satisfied nod, returning to his position of resting his chin on laced fingers. He grinned coyly at Vincent, waving the waitress over and ordering his usual. Alastor surprised him by ordering Vincent’s usual as well, seeming to have done a better job at covertly observing than the young adult had. 

He returned his attention back towards his bewildered table mate, watching him as if fascinated. 

“So. Since you know so much about me already, It’s only fair that I learn about you. Starting with those magnifique eyes……”

Vincent gave a shy smile, having never been complimented on his eye color before…..  He happily obliged, starting in on explaining his unique condition.

Alastor watched the interesting man across from him, amused by his naive disposition….

He only half listened to the young adult drone on and on about his life, considering the interesting situation that had landed in his lap. He had known Vincent was following him since that very first day at the recording studio. 

He was sloppy and uncoordinated, giving himself away immediately. 

Yet, there was something about the brunette that entertained him. Perhaps it was the way he wore every emotion on his face. Or maybe it was how nervous and sweaty he became at Alastor's very presence….. Either way, it was great fun to watch. 

He had become bored of the mundaneness of everyday life…. Even with hobbies, it seemed to be the same tune every single day.

Vincent, on the other hand, seemed to be full of surprises…. Alastor was somewhat impressed at his gull when he began stalking him, having pegged him as far too underconfident when they first met. It posed an exciting element that Alastor hadn’t predicted. And golly, if that didn’t give him a small rush…..

He watched with glee as the young adult melted into the palm of his hand, briefly wondering how far his little fan would go to please him……

Yes, this was going to be great fun indeed. Alastor had big plans for him….. But first, he would enjoy playing with his food.

Chapter Text

Oh god I look like an idiot….

Vincent stood in front of the mirror of his hotel room, grimacing at the outfit he chose. After the surprising meal he shared with Alastor the day before, he went down to the store to buy a new outfit for the following day. He wanted to impress the man more than anything. And if there was one thing he noticed about Alastor, it was that he took pride in his look. 

If it was important to him, well, it was important to Vincent.

He spent what felt like hours browsing the clothing racks, having no idea what he was doing. He briefly contemplated picking something red, quickly deciding it would be far too obvious….

What about silk? Alastor seemed to enjoy wearing it….This idea was also dashed the moment he looked at the price tag. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, close to admitting defeat…

“Can I help you find something?” A smiling woman approached Vincent, smelling so strongly of perfume he almost gave a visible reaction. “Um, I’m not sure…” He replied nervously, not quite aware of what it was he was trying to find. “I guess I’m just looking for a nice shirt. I have lunch plans with someone tomorrow….” The woman immediately lit up, winking at him. “Oh I see! Want to look nice for a special date, hm?”

Vincents face turned a shade of crimson, tensing up. “N-No! Its nothing like th-that! More of a…. Business meeting…..” She giggled at his reaction, clearly not believing him. “Sure, sweety. Now follow me.”

Leading him to the mirror in the corner, she whipped out a measuring tape and started with wrapping it around his neck. "Now what are we going for, here? Casual or gussied up?” Vincent was taken aback, allowing her to measure him. “Um…. Casual, I suppose.”

She nodded, beginning to measure his arm. “Great! Let me see what I have….” Writing down something, she quickly disappeared. Leaving Vincent to stare at himself in the mirror. When was the last time he had a hair cut? He mused to himself, pushing away the bangs that hung in his face. The woman returned quickly, several shirts of various colors on her arm. “Alright! Step into the dressing room and try these on. Step out when you find one you like!” He awkwardly grabbed the pile, stepping into the small room and closing the door. He was greeted by another full length mirror, quickly unbuttoning his shirt to try the first one on.

The fabric was course and itchy, immediately out of the question. The second one had a pattern that was far too busy…. He remembered Alastor saying he didnt like gaudy, and he was sure this fit that description. None of these seemed quite right as he flipped through the stack….. He stopped near the end when he saw one that caught his eye. Pulling it out, he held it up to observe it.

It was a nice soft linen, a small intricate pattern along the lapel. The shade was a light blue, his favoirite color. The buttons were a soft white, complimenting the delicate nature. He quickly put it on, buttoning it up and looking in the mirror with a smile.

It was perfect…. Not too fancy, not too casual. Right in the middle.

He stepped out of the dressing room, smiling at the sales lady. She grinned when she saw him, nodding in approval. “That’s the one. Good choice.”

But now, a day later, he stood in front of the mirror unsure of his decision…… Vincent had paired it with beige slacks and a darker blue set of suspenders. Last night he had felt clever, but now he felt silly. Looking at his watch, he realized he didn’t have time for a second choice. He would be late if he didn’t leave now….. 

Grabbing his hat, he quickly left the room and hurried to the diner.

Alastor hummed a soft tune, approaching the diner with a confident stride. Wrapping his slim fingers around the handle, he pulled the glass door open and stepped inside. He spotted Vincent immediately at his favorite table. When the rookie spotted him, he gave Alastor a nervous smile.

The radio host couldn’t help the small chuckle that left his throat, enjoying the rather pathetic display.

You couldn’t pay for entertainment this sweet.

He sat down at the table, offering a coy smile to the man who had been waiting for him with baited breath. “Hello, Vincent.” 

The rookie rubbed the back of his neck, smiling back. “Hello, Alastor! How was-”

“I presume you’ve ordered our usuals?” He stated bluntly, his grin widening as he watched Vincent panic. 

“U-uh, not yet…. One moment!” He hastily called the waitress over, the order tumbling out of his mouth. Alastor sat back and watched him with amusement dancing on his lips. He followed without question, so unsuspecting it was almost adorable. Like a puppy aiming for a treat. It filled Alastor with a sense of disgust. He looked the other up and down, noticing the outfit he chose. It was nice, something the host assumed was chosen for the occasion.

“What a becoming outfit, mon cheri. Did you wear it just for me?” He gave a teasing smile, enjoying the blush that broke out on Vincent's face. “No, j-just the way I dress!”

Alastor cocked his head, studying the shirt. “Although there's one thing not quite right… give me your arm.” He instructed firmly, Vincent silently obeying with surprise on his face. Alastor immediately went to work on his sleeve, expertly rolling it up until it was halfway up to the elbow. HIs skin was warm and flush, slightly trembling under his fingers. “Now the other.” he commanded, grinning at the way Vincent obliged. “Much better. Now look how dashing you look!” 

Vincent looked down at his arms, a soft smile touching his lips. “Thanks, Alastor…”

His arm still tingled where Alastor had touched him, hoping he wasn't as sweaty as he felt. He looked up to catch sight of that sharp smile, happy with whatever he had done to deserve it. The coffee and pastry arrived, causing the radio host to hum in anticipation. Vincent watched him delicately pull the bread apart and pop a piece into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully before returning his attention to him.

“So. Any plans today?”

Vincent blinked at the blunt nature he still wasn’t used to, struggling to get his brain to work. “Oh, nothing important really…. You?” He followed up politely, taking away some of the awkwardness by sipping his coffee. 

“Well, I was hoping to take care of some business at the studio….” He met Vincent’s eyes with a knowing gleam. “Would you like to join me?”

Vincent nearly spit out his coffee, eyes going wide with excitement. “That would be great!” He immediately fixed his face, trying to seem aloof. “Are you sure that’s okay?” He watched Alastor tear off another piece, snickering at him. “But of course, mon biquet. After all, Im sure everyone would love to meet the man who’s been following me around!”

Vincent gulped with a nervous smile, hoping Alastor was kidding……

“I’ve only seen this in books!”

Alastor chuckled as he watched Vincent excitedly look over the mixing panel, looking like a kid in a candy store. 

His sound engineer was going down the list of knobs and dials, showing him what each one did. Vincent listened with excitement in his eyes, taking in all the information he could. He looked back up at Alastor, a dumb smile plastered on his face. “This is incredible! I can’t believe you get to work here every day!”

Alastor leaned against the nearby wall casually, taking a slow drag off a cigarette as he grinned at his new plaything.  “I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself, mon chou. Would you like to see the isolation room?” Vincents eyes widened, practically jumping up and down. “Could I??” 

This earned a chuckle as Alastor took another drag, turning to lead Vincent to the nearby door. He let him in, the rookie immediately gravitating to the microphone in the middle. He looked over it with stars in his eye, touching the stand delicately as if he was afraid to break it. “Wow….” He breathed. “I can’t believe I’m here!” Alastor watched him with fascination, the smirk on his face unrelenting.

He was about to say something when a voice interrupted their little party. “Hey! What's he doing in here? You can’t touch that!” 

Alastor looked up to see the assistant engineer. Vincent jumped in surprise, eyes widening as he quickly took his hand away from the microphone. The brunette immediately hung his head, rubbing his arm in embarrassment. “I-Im sorry… I was just-”

Alastor scoffed, his smile holding an air of anger. Something inside him switched on, filling him with a rage that surprised even himself. 

“Don't apologize, Vincent.” He ordered, turning his attention back to the man who had interrupted his fun. “Excuse me? Is that any way to talk to my guest? He can touch whatever I say he can. Compris?” 

The assistant blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting Alastor to react in such a way. “I was just-”

“You were just nothing.” Alastor replied with a voice filled with warning. He fully faced the man, his smile mixing with a sneer. “I don't appreciate you being rude to my guest. Now apologize.”

The assistant blinked a moment longer before turning his attention to Vincent. “I'm sorry… Just be careful, okay?” 

“Now leave.” 

The assistant quickly obliged, leaving the room. Alastor turned back towards the surprised brunette, anger immediately gone as he flashed a calm smile. “Apologies, mon chou. Just a lowly assistant.”

Vincent seemed speechless for a moment, blushing as he fidgeted with a suspender. “Th-thanks Alastor….” Alastor waved a dismissive hand, approaching him. “C'est rien.” He stood in front of Vincent, a soft grin touching his lips as he cocked his head. “Why didn’t you say anything in defense, Vincent?” 

He watched Vincent blush at the closeness, stammering his response. “I-I don’t know…” he admitted softly, seeming ashamed.

“NEVER allow ANYONE to speak to you like that. Do you hear me?” Alastor placed a soft finger on Vincent's jaw line, the action comforting yet commanding. 

“Y-Yes….” Vincent responded in almost a whisper, eyes locked on Alastor. 

“Bon garçon.” The french flowed like honey from his lips, giving a small pat to Vincent’s cheek before turning away. “Now come. I’d say we had enough fun for today. It's time to walk you home.”

Vincent said his goodbyes, looking at Alastor one last time before entering the hotel. HIs mind was filled with the excitement of the past few hours.

Alastor had stood up for him!

It was a sensation that made his gut twist and turn with a warmth, no one having ever done that for him before…. It left him feeling lighter than air, practically skipping towards the hallway. He was so caught up in his thoughts he  ran into the gruff man he was never happy to see, knocking him over. The man threw a dirty look in Vincent’s direction, the rough voice unwelcome. “Hey, kid, watch where you’re going!”

Vincent was taken aback, his face immediately flushing at the confrontation. He stared at the man for a moment, taking in the angry face that glared at him as he stumbled to his feet.

Alastors words suddenly echoed in his head; Never allow anyone to speak to you like that.

A sense of bravery suddenly took over Vincent, wanting to make Alastor proud of him. He tried his best to throw his own dirty look, clenching his fists. “E-Excuse me? Is that any way to talk to a paying customer? Maybe I should take my business elsewhere!”

His heart stopped as he waited for the reaction. He was surprised to watch the hotel worker look at him with an almost panicked expression, holding his hands up. “Geez, sorry sir. Didn’t mean to start anything… Have a good night, okay?” He quickly scurried off, leaving Vincent to watch him in disbelief. 

He spent a couple seconds speechless before a large smile broke out on his face. Finally! He had stood up for himself! And it worked!

Feeling like a million bucks, he whistled a happy tune as he walked to his room.

The night air was warm, a soft wind granting a bit of relief as Alastor hid behind a tree. Gripping his knife tightly in his fist, he peeked around its corner to see the assistant that had treated Vincent so poorly.

It was odd…. He had never once done this for someone else.

For his own sake he had done this many times before; It was a hobby he quite enjoyed….. A way to experience the delicious feeling of power and let off some steam. And what better way than to right the wrongs from those who dared to slight him?

But for someone else? He had never. Yet here he was….. stalking the man who had simply been rude to his little fan. 

There was something about the moment that caused Alastor to snap. It was as if the assistant had insulted him instead of Vincent. A strange feeling that he could only identify as territorial…. 

It would be a pain to find another assistant engineer, yes. But Alastor would not allow the action to go unpunished. 

The smile on his face widened as he saw his opening, a soft growl leaving his throat as he jumped out to tackle his prey. The Assistant let out a yelp of surprise, falling backwards to the ground. Alastor shivered at the familiar rush that filled his body, straddling the figure with his knife raised. 

The muse took over as his wide eyes glazed over in malice. The stretch of his smile almost hurt his cheeks while he brought the blade down over and over again, warm blood splattering his face. The scream from his victim hit his ears like sweet music, almost masking the insane laughter that tumbled from his lips. 

Through the beautiful carnage only one thought stuck in his mind; Only I am allowed to insult him. No one else. 

He plunged the knife into the chest of his prey again and again, tasting the metallic warmth of blood as it flew into his mouth. Life slowly left the fearful eyes, filling Alastor like a hearty meal. Finally deciding he had enough fun, he stood to admire his work. Artistry at its finest. Humming a soft tune, he licked his blade clean before putting it away. 

He grabbed the bloody corpse from under his arms, dragging him deeper into the forest to find a proper burial site. 

Chapter Text

The next few days were a blissful blur of red.

Who he was, what he valued….. it was all different now. 

Vincent was carted around by the mysterious enigma that was Alastor, and he found himself more than happy to do wherever he was told. It was a huge opportunity, he would tell himself, to become friendly with one of the biggest voices in radio. Alastor had taken him under his wing, almost as a mentor. But in the same breath, it was more than that. Vincent had found himself vying for his attention. He would do almost anything to earn the approval of the man he so admired…

Alastor was not one to give it, which made it all the more desirable. But those few moments where those brown eyes glanced at him favorably…. They were enough to fill him with a fluttery pride that lasted all day.

It was after a few days of their lunches when Alastor asked him the question he could have only dreamt he would be asked; Vincent had just succeeded in making the radio host laugh, basking in the bliss of his achievement. He wasn't quite sure what he had said that was so funny…. But he was pleased with himself nonetheless. The sharp yet soft eyes returned to him as he leaned forward to rest his chin on laced fingers, still chuckling as he grinned at Vincent.

“Pauvre con….” 

He had no idea what Alastor was saying when he spoke French, but the beautiful tone in which he used was pleasant to his ears. Should I learn French? He mused to himself.

“So Vincent…” he began as he stirred sugar into his coffee. “I have a job for you.” The young man immediately nodded, excited for any opportunity to prove his worth.

“If you are serious about the world of radio, you must learn everything it entails. Understand?”

The eyes that stared at the brunette were expectant, the unwavering grin creating an air of assurity. “Well you are in luck, mon cheri! We are in need of an assistant audio engineer. I told them you’re a fast learner.” Alastor spoke these words with a commanding cadence that told Vincent he wasn’t being asked. He smiled in excitement, knowing this was his opportunity to start in the field he had dreamed about since he was a kid. He paused when a thought occurred to him, cocking his head at Alastor. 

“What happened to the old one?”

“He stopped showing up.” Alastor answered simply, taking a long sip of his coffee. “No matter. I never liked him, anyways. Dead weight, as it were….”

Thus followed the best job Vincent had ever had. Technology fascinated him greatly, so learning the ins and outs of the mixing board was truly a dream come true. The best part was getting to watch Alastor in action. The poise and comfortability he exhibited while broadcasting was enchanting. He was confident that if he continued this road with Alastor, he would one day finally be the man on that microphone. Things in his life were truly perfect. 

Alastor sat back with one leg crossed over his knee as he watched Vincent, wondering if he would ever run out of  things to talk about. He droned on and on about whatever seemed to come to mind. Is he even breathing?

This was usually a trait that Alastor didn't care for, but Vincent seemed to be his exception. He was fascinating to observe, like an animal in the zoo. 

Within the last few days he had learned much about this strange man; for one he was quite selfish, talking mostly about himself when given the opportunity. He was also impulsive, not seeming to give much thought to his actions. But most of all, he was needy. It was perhaps what the radio host liked most about him….. Easily malleable. Seemingly willing to do whatever it took to receive approval.

He often wondered how far he would go, testing the waters here and there. It was usually in the form of small tasks, ranging from the benign to sometimes quite demeaning. Vincent would open doors, grab his coat, pay for their food…… There was even a time Alastor decided to ask him to tie his shoe. 

He was baffled to watch the brunette bend on one knee and immediately comply. Without even seeming to question it. It took everything inside Alastor to refrain from bursting into laughter. 

He was so…. Pathetic. It should have caused Alastor to lose all interest. But instead, it roused a feeling inside him he didn't expect; a fierce sense of possessiveness. He was a bumbling idiot, yes. But he was Alastor’s bumbling idiot. And no one was allowed to mistreat him. Except for Alastor, of course. 

He had to admit, however, how much he enjoyed the way Vincent watched him during his broadcast. As if it were the most interesting performance he had ever seen. 

His thoughts were cut off by a look Vincent was currently giving him, as if he had just asked a question. He kept the smile on his face, cocking his head. “Repeat the question, mon cheri.” Vincent pouted slightly, seeming somewhat sad that Alastor wasn’t paying too much attention to the latest string of words to pour from his mouth.

“I said did you know there’s an aquarium here? I hear that they have a great white shark! We should go sometime!” Alastor nodded slowly, trying not to show how stupid of a statement he thought that was. “Sometime.” he replied dryly, checking his pocket watch. 

The radio host crossed his arms and grinned up at Vincent. “How about we go to a place where you can buy me a drink? I could use one.”

Vincent stepped into the jazz club, the warmth of the smooth music wafting over him. He looked around in awe at the scene around him; so many beautiful people, elegant and suave. Much like the man he walked in with.

Alastor motioned him over to the bar, taking a seat. Vincent sat next to him, watching the host greet the bartender. They seemed to be on a first name basis, causing a strange feeling to twist in the pit of Vincent's stomach…

He had never thought about Alastor having other friends, noting how cold and blunt he was towards the other workers at the radio station. He rather enjoyed being the only person Alastor gave attention to, and didn't care for the feeling when he had to share it. He watched them talk for a moment, feeling like a third wheel as they caught up. 

Alastor gave him a quick glance while conversing, his grin seeming to fill with amusement. Vincent quickly looked down, waiting for them to finish their conversation. Eventually, Alastor ordered their drinks and turned his attention back to Vincent. He gave him a small chuckle, propping his elbow on the bar to rest the side of his face on his palm. The grin was teasing, dripping with amusement. 

“Mon petite cheu, is that a hint of jealousy I see?”

Vincent immediately blushed, looking away as his face scrunched up in a mix of embarrassment and frustration that Alastor could read him like a book. “N-No..” He protested with indignance, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. 

“You know how I feel when you lie to me.” The voice was soft yet stern. "Look at me.” Came the command. 

Vincent flitted his eyes up at Alastor, still embarrassed. Alastor had a wide mischievous grin on his face, finger tapping the side of his face. “I have to say, mon cheri. That emotion looks delightful on you….” 

Vincent was surprised by this reaction, looking up fully to give a nervous smile. One more way to make Alastor happy.

As the night went on, Alastor watched Vincent get progressively more and more drunk. He guessed it was his first time, going off of how many times Vincent told him as much.

“I’ve never been drunk before!” “So this is what being drunk is like?” “I think I like alcohol. I've never had this much before!” 

Alastor sipped his whiskey as he watched him ramble on and on about whatever came to mind, the amusing display causing him to grin the entire time. Every so often, an old acquaintance would come up to Alastor and say hello, eliciting an adorably visceral response from Vincent. 

The radio host enjoyed the jealous look on the brunette's face every time he lost Alastor's attention. As he became drunker, the look was more prevalent and expressive. After enough whiskey, his reactions became more brave. It wasn't long before it became physical. 

Alastor watched as Vincent got up, standing behind the interrupter. His fascination immediately peaked, not sure what his play thing would do next. 

“EXCUSE ME.” Vincent practically yelled, his tone giving away his intoxication. “HE WAS TALKING TO ME.” 

The much larger man slowly turned around to face the angry brunette, raising a brow and crossing his arms. “Who are you?” He asked with a small grin.

“WHO ARE YOU??” Vincent threw back, putting his hands up and shoving him hard. The larger man barely moved, glancing back at Alastor. The radio host was currently enjoying the show with one leg crossed and a grin on his face. He jabbed a thumb back at Vincent. “He with you, Al?” Alastor chuckled. “It would appear so.” 

Vincent tried pushing him again. “HEY! I WAS TALKING TO YOU.”

Alastor stood with a small sigh, realizing it was best to stop this before Vincent was punched. He moved in between the two. “I think I'll take him home now. Good to see you, Jaques.” He turned around to face Vincent. “Come dear. I think you’ve had enough fun for one night.”

Vincent frowned at him, taking one more look at Jaques before reluctantly following. 

Alastor wrapped Vincent's arm around his shoulder to support him, realizing how drunk he had gotten. He pondered for a moment, knowing they were much too far away from his hotel. Vincent didn’t seem to have long before he was going to pass out on him, and Alastor had no plans of carrying him. His home, however, was only a few blocks away.

Damnit…. I guess I'm taking you home, aren't I?

Vincent groaned as he awoke, the sun streaming in from the window hurting his eyes. He slowly sat up and rubbed his neck, head spinning with a headache. 

Where….. Where am I?

His eyes squinted as he fought to focus them, looking around to try to identify the strange room.

The first thing he noticed was he was currently on a couch. It was decadent, the pattern intricate and the fabric soft. Looking around, he noted that the room he was in matched; From the red lacy curtains to the dark wood molding, he could have guessed it belonged to royalty. To his right was a large fireplace made of stone. On its mantle stood an impressive radio, compact yet grand. It was made of a red wood, the lace that surrounded the speaker delicate and complicated. He stared at the device a moment before the realization hit him.

……Was he in Alastor's home?

This thought snapped him to life, head turning in all directions to try to find the radio host. It seemed, however, that he was alone. The house was everything he imagined, the decor red and regal. Looking down, he finally noticed a small note placed on the glass coffee table. Vincent picked it up to read, “Mon cheri, I will return. Wait here.   -Al.”

Vincent traced his thumb over the beautiful hand writing, noting the flourish. It caused a small smile to tug at his lips, the knowledge that it was a note written for him making his insides flutter. After reading it over a few times, he rubbed his aching head and set it down. 

Is this what being hung over feels like? He didn’t enjoy it, briefly wondering if alcohol was worth it after all….. He swallowed, realizing how parched he was. The note said to stay….. But there was nothing wrong with fetching a glass of water, right?

Vincent stood on sore feet, noticing the plush carpet. He slowly approached the hallway, hoping he would find a kitchen quickly. Stepping out of the living room, he noticed several things about the hallway. There were no pictures, no framed awards as Vincent had imagined. Nothing but red wallpaper with fleurs and impressive bronze sconces. Venturing towards the line of doors, he tried to identify any sign of the kitchen….. But of course, there wasn't one. 

Biting his lip, he decided to start opening doors. 

They were made of dark wood, creaking as he pulled them open. One was to a closet….. Another, a bathroom……. Door after door, none leading to a kitchen. 

The last door caught his eye, looking a bit larger than the rest. He tentatively turned the knob, pulling it open with a creek. To his disappointment, it led to a staircase. He was about to give up on his endeavor before his ears perked; the sound of light music could be heard wafting up the stairway. 

Could Alastor be down there? 

His curiosity got the best of him, considering for only a moment before deciding to ascend. He was slow, his heart thumping with each creak that accompanied every foot step. He reached the landing, eyes trying to adjust to the lack of light. He couldn’t see much of the room, but could hear the music originating somewhere around the corner.

“.....Alastor?” he called out into the dark room, receiving no answer. Deciding to continue on, he ventured further toward the music. He could hear his heart beat as he approached the corner, finding it led to another room. He stepped past the threshold, feeling the wall beside him for a switch. To his relief, he found one. He pushed the button, turning on the lights.

Vincent wasn’t prepared for the grotesque site that greeted him.

He first noticed the radio nearby, the source of the soft tune. Next, he looked over to see the metal table in the center. There was something atop it, taking him a moment to register what he was looking at. He gasped in horror, covering his mouth with a trembling hand.

It was a human torso. 

Laying next to it were several bloody tools. Fresh blood dripped from the table's edge, creating a dark red puddle that made the room smell of copper.  His eyes widened as they landed on a metal bin nearby. Sticking out of it were the severed arms and legs, blue fingers almost seeming to reach out towards Vincent for help. 

He took several shaky steps back, running into a table along the wall. His hands instinctually reached back to brace himself, trying to find some stability. Instead, they landed on something soft and wet. Vincent retracted his hand to see it was covered in blood. Veins turning to ice, he slowly turned around to find the source. 

Two dead cloudy eyes stared back at him. 

He screamed as he backed away from the severed head that was laid on the table, almost dizzy while his brain frantically tried to understand what was happening. 

“Oh, mon biquet…..” 

Vincent whipped his head around to see a dark figure in the doorway, hands folded neatly behind his back as he slowly stepped into the light. Alastor stood before him, his eyes dark and narrowed. He wore a plastic apron that was dripping in fresh blood. The grin on his face was mixed with a sneer, a dark chuckle escaping his closed lips as he cocked his head at Vincent. 

“You just can’t follow simple fucking instructions, can you?”

Vincent took a step back, eyes wide at the monster in front of him. “A-Alastor…. I-” Was all he could get out before the bloody man lunged for him.

Chapter Text

Ouch…

Vincent slowly awoke, eyes slowly squinting open. The room was spinning, causing his head to pound. He tried to raise a hand to the spot that hurt the most, finding he couldn't.

Wait… why couldn't he move his hand?

This caused his eyes to fully snap open, forcing his mind to focus. He looked down to see he was bound to a chair, ropes cutting into his wrists and ankles. Vincent felt a panic wash over him, struggling against the bindings to find it was useless.

“Bonjour, Vincent. How did you sleep?”

He froze at the voice that dripped with honey and malice, looking up to face the man who had captured him.

Alastor sat in a chair in front of him with an impossibly wide smile, his blood stained teeth almost appearing sharp. The eyes Vincent had spent hours gazing into were different now; dark and cold. Filled with the promise of murder. They bore into him with a bloodlust that caused his spine to chill. 

His pose was much more relaxed, almost teasing. One leg was lazily draped over the other, as if casually watching a performance. In one hand he held a large knife that was stained red, twirling it in his hand with an air of playfulness. The other supported his chin, elbow resting on the arm of the chair. He hummed with satisfaction, seeming to enjoy the look on Vincent's face. The captive was stunned into silence, his mind slowly piecing together what was happening. 

After a moment of silence Alastor let out a mean snicker, cocking his head. “What? Finally run out of things to say? If I would have known that this is what it took to shut you up, I would have tied you to a chair weeks ago.”

Despite his current position, Vincent couldn’t help but be hurt by the words. His face must have shown it, because Alastor rolled his eyes, tsking with a smile. “Oh, don’t be so sensitive mon petit chou! I’m merely joking….”

He leaned forward with a chuckle, placing the tip of the blade under Vincent's chin and lifting. The brunette's face tilted upwards, meeting Alastor's amusement filled eyes. “You know how I've been enjoying our little soirees….. Such a pity you had to ruin it by being a nosey little pest. Hm?” The darkness returned to his pupils, looking him over like a cut of meat. “Shame, really….” He mused aloud to himself.

Vincent panicked slightly, his eyes widening as he realized where this was going. “W-Wait! You don’t have to k-kill me! I-”

Alastor cut him off with a high pitched laugh, tipping his head back as if Vincent had just shared a hilarious joke. The knife never left Vincent's throat, causing him to tremble as he tried to keep his chin above the blade. 

Alastor slowly composed himself, returning his attention to his prey. The fear oozing from Vincent was enough to make him shiver in excitement. He gave a playful pout, lowering the blade so he could grab Vincent by the cheek. He shook his face mockingly.

“Oh mon dieu! You’re so pathetic, you know that?”

Still chuckling, he stood. The murderer circled Vincent slowly, brushing the tip of his knife against him as he did so. “No no….” he mused softly. “I'm not going to kill you. Not yet.”

Alastor stopped once he was directly behind him, lazily wrapping his arms around his neck. He leaned down to lay his head on Vincent’s shoulder, sighing like a dissatisfied child. “Life had become so boring, mon cheri…..” he almost groaned the words, absentmindedly twirling Vincent’s hair with a finger. “Even with my hobby….. Every day was the same tired routine. Over and over and over…..”

Alastor reveled at the way his captive guest trembled under his touch, feeling the immense power he held over the man in his basement. He let out a dark chuckle, grinning as he leaned into Vincent’s ear. 

“But then….. You came along….”

Standing again, Alastor stepped in front of him. He bent his knees until he was eye level with Vincent, grabbing his chin firmly with one hand. Grinning madly, he tilted Vincent’s head and traced the knife along his jugular. 

“Like a little puppy.  You followed me….. Put everything in your life on hold…..” 

Alastor drank in the whimpers that escaped the brunette, cocking his head to the side as he observed him. “There was something about you….. Something that fascinated me. Something I found entertaining…..”  His grin mixed with a sneer, moving his chin downward to look into his eyes. “I decided the first day you started stalking me, mon petit chou.  You were going to be mine. Whether you wanted it or not.”

He giggled, brushing his thumb over Vincent’s jaw. His prisoner stared back with wide eyes, a thick blush painting his face. “Little did I know….. You would end up being mine quite literally, hm?”  Laughing at his own joke, he patted Vincent's cheek and stood. Sitting back in his chair, he returned to his relaxed pose. 

Vincent took this all in, too stunned to reply as he listened to the honey sweet words that flowed into his ear. Despite the perilous situation, he couldn’t stop the blush that burned his cheeks when Alastor laid his head on Vincent’s shoulder. He was so close to him…. The hot breath grazed his ear, causing a warm knot to form in his stomach. 

Through the fear, the brunette couldn’t help but continue to be mesmerized by the powerful figure that held the knife so close to gutting him…… He wouldn’t fully admit it to himself, but the attention Alastor was giving him filled him with an almost pleasant feeling. Hearing the words ‘you were going to be mine’ left him breathless as he stared into the dark eyes that wished to consume him. He was terrified beyond belief, yes. But also….. Proud?

Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?

Vincent felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment when Alastor moved away from him, watching him sit down with a level of grace that he could only admire. 

“You’re still mine. Aren’t you, Vincent?”

The question surprised him, swallowing a shaky breath as he struggled to find the answer. The brown eyes danced with amusement, a knowing grin spreading as his captor watched him. “I-I….” Vincent tried, his mind racing. Here he was, staring at a man who wished to devour him. Who held him prisoner next to the remains of a dismembered body. Yet, despite all of this, the word “Yes.” left his lips. 

Alastor seemed pleased with this answer, a deep chuckle leaving his throat as his grin widened. “Bon Garcon….” he purred, his tone almost seeming like a reward to Vincent’s ears.

Alastor looked away as if in thought, giving a long sigh. “However….” He tapped his finger on the hilt of his knife. “Here comes the tricky part….” Alastor moved to lay sideways in his chair, leg lazily draping over an arm. He supported his head in one hand, propping his elbow on the other arm of the chair while he gazed at Vincent. “I can't let you go….. At least not yet. I'm not sure how much I trust that you’ll keep my little secret……” 

Vincent held his breath as he awaited for his fate to be decided. Alastor seemed to intentionally drag it out, enjoying the anticipation he created. 

“I suppose I’ll just have to keep you here.” He decided in a casual tone, his grin unwavering. “That is, until I decide what happens next….”

He stood, stalking towards Vincent with elegant strides as he pointed the knife towards him. His eyes once again went wild, filling with the promise of blood. “I warn you only once, mon biquet….” The words came out in a hiss, the grin stretching his face far enough that Vincent wondered if his skin would tear. “I'm not one for taking care of pets out of the goodness of my heart. It will be in your best interest to remain entertaining for me.” 

He stopped when the knife had reached Vincent, causing the captive guest to lean back as far as he could in an effort to escape the piercing blade. “Because If you don’t…..” The man nearly sang, following it with a dark laugh. He slowly ran the blade along his prey's cheek, blood oozing from the thin cut it left behind. Vincent’s eyes widened, hissing in pain. 

Alastor raised the knife to his own face, looking the brunette in the eye as he ran a slow tongue up the side of the bloody knife. He hummed at the taste, his tongue snaking back into his mouth to savor it.. 

“Do I make myself clear, mon cheri?” 

Vincent was quick to nod a yes, his wide eyes never leaving Alastor’s. 

“Excellent.” 

With that, Alastor set the knife on the nearby table. He moved to start untying his wrists, leaning down until his lips grazed Vincent’s ear. “Try anything, and I'll gut you like a fish. Compris?” Vincent gulped, his face burning with deep crimson as Alastor snickered in his ear. 

The relief that flooded him as his wrists were freed was almost euphoric, the blood rushing back into his fingers. Alastor stood him up on shaky legs, leading him to the corner of the room. Vincent complied wordlessly, looking down to see chains welded to the floor. 

“Sit, boy.” Alastor commanded, shoving him forward hard enough to make Vincent fall to his knees. His body ached, palms feeling the cold concrete beneath him. He felt something cold suddenly wrap around his throat, a small click filling his ears. He raised his face to see Alastor, his face close as he secured the metal collar to his neck. 

“This will have to do for now.” He muttered quietly, checking to make sure it was on correctly. Vincent sat on the hard floor, looking down to see the chain that linked his new collar with the concrete. It was long enough to move around, but not much else. 

Alastor stood back, seeming to admire his work. Vincent looked up at him with pleading eyes, his mind blurring as everything happened so quickly around him. “A-Alastor…..” He choked out. “Please…. I'm so thirsty….”

He watched the man roll his eyes playfully, tsking down at the pathetic mess that lay before him. “So needy already.” He chuckled, grinning down at him. “But alright…… I’ll go get you some water. Stay here, okay?”

With that Alastor left, laughing at his own joke like a mad hyena.

Chapter Text

Thus began the spiral that was Vincent’s new life. 

He often spent his alone time in the basement thinking back to his old life……. He had family, a few friends, a career on the horizon……. Things seemed so simple. So set in stone. 

But…. He had chosen Alastor. And there was no going back.

His time as a prisoner had its ups and downs. For the most part, Alastor was a kind captor. He would bring him hot meals, sitting with him and conversing as if everything was normal. He had fetched Vincent’s things from the hotel, telling him “no one questions you when you’re famous!” He had even brought Vincent a particularly soft blanket and cot to sleep on. These moments were ones Vincent relished, basking in the glow of Alastor's gifts and approving smiles. When Vincent was good, Alastor would praise him. Soft coos of “Bon garcon.” and playful laughs kept him sane. 

“You look so lovely in those chains, Vincent.” Alastor would tell him often, which led him to enjoy his metal collar little by little. He eventually became proud to wear it, seeing it as a symbol of his captors affection. He's training me… he would think to himself from time to time. But the knowledge didn’t stop the brainwashing that was slowly taking effect. It made him wonder how long it had been going on…. Had he been doing this from the beginning?  It was hard to tell…. And as the days went on, he began to care less and less. Alastor became a godlike figure, bringing him the sustenance and attention he needed each day. He found himself filled with a sense of excitement when he heard those soft footsteps descending the stairs, having spent god knows how long awaiting them…. 

But, it wasn't always smiles and compliments.

There were times where Vincent would say or do something that would make Alastor unhappy. The prisoner received no mercy in these moments; His punishments ranged anywhere from losing his blanket or food for the night to receiving a slap so hard he would feel the sting for hours. 

A few days into his new life Vincent had made the mistake of complaining, begging for a longer chain.

“I can stand, but I miss walking around….” Vincent whined. "Just long enough to pace?”

Alastor went silent for a moment, his eyes studying his prisoner. Vincent knew immediately he had made a mistake, wishing he could take it back. Alastor gave a short chuckle, standing slowly so he loomed over the brunette. The figure above him seemed to change, his demeanor going from graceful and delicate to monstrous and hungry. In his state of fear, Vincent could swear the small lightbulb dimmed by just a fraction, casting a dark shadow across Alastor's face. Vincent trembled as he waited for the reaction he knew was to come.

“A-Alastor… I-”

He was cut off by the figure grabbing his hair, yanking hard to force Vincent to tilt upwards. He met the cold eyes, clouded over with a dark amusement as he watched his helpless prey. His grin was sharp and hungry, baring both rows of teeth in a way that made Vincent worry he was about to be eaten alive. Alastor let out a soft snicker, mean and hateful. 

“How interesting…” The words came out in a sugary drawl, laced with mockery.  “I so graciously take care of you. I feed you, clothe you, keep you warm at night…… and yet, my petite chiot continues to ask for more. Why would that be, Vincent?”

The tone in which Alastor spoke was calm and collected, but the look in his eye told him that he had better answer correctly. The prisoner stammered, feeling as though he were being consumed by the darkened eyes that bore into his skull.

“I-I’m sorry, Alastor… I d-didn’t mean it! I’m h-happy with w-what I have….”

There was a moment of silence that followed before Alastor’s eyes finally softened, the bloodlust leaving his smile. The light returned to his face and the bemusement reappeared. He hummed happily, lightly stroking the cut on Vincent’s face as if in warning.

“Of course you are. And why wouldn’t you be? Aren’t we having so much fun together, mon cheri?” Vincent nodded quickly, his heart pounding in his chest. “Besides…. Who else would care for you so lovingly? No one, Vincent. Compris?”

That was the last time he complained. He had learned something very valuable; Alastor wanted to keep him alive, but hurting him was never off the table. And who knows? Maybe if he was good enough, Alastor would finally release him….. But the dark question remained in the back of his skull; who would he have to become for that to happen?  

Alastor whistled a cheery tune as he cooked, stirring the large pot filled with gumbo. Does it need more onion? Pulling an onion from his cabinet, he continued whistling. Alastor was very happy with how things were going.

The plans with Vincent had changed in the best of ways; originally, he was simply planning to eat him. After all, he was the perfect target. A visitor to the area, no other connections besides him…. Not to mention, it was almost impossible to decide against when he entered Alastor's life so willingly. Almost begging for it. He had been enjoying the way Vincent worshipped him, yes, but ultimately he had decided on one simple end goal. 

But now….. now there was an opportunity he was soul bound to explore.

Almost five years ago, Alastor had made what he considered to be the wisest decision of his life; he sold his soul. 

He wasn't stupid, he knew where he was going to end up when he died. So he decided If he was going to hell, why not make it a bit more interesting? In exchange for his soul, he was promised to be the most powerful sinner in all of hell. Free to continue the fun he had on earth. Safe from any torture that awaited plus the added bonus of possessing the power to do what he wanted. 

However, It came with a small catch during his living life; There was now a beast within him that hungered. And he was obliged to feed it. It was fun at first, finding he could sate it from his cannibalistic tendencies. But as the years passed, it became a bit tiresome. It was no longer a way to achieve revenge upon the insolent. It was now a scheduled task he was obligated to perform. 

But then, something quite peculiar happened….. At first, he chained up Vincent out of necessity; he couldn’t afford to be found out. Then came the day Alastor first caused him psychological distress. To his surprise, the demon within him responded. Verily so. 

He tested this further, from verbal abuse to physical. It seemed the further he went, the happier the beast inside him became. The power within him would rise so high  Alastor could swear at times it leaked into the living world. Now, every morning he awoke with the beautiful question of “What can I subject him to today?” 

He had never been happier. 

After throwing the chopped onions into the pot, he pulled down two bowls to prepare their dinners. He was planning something quite exciting, and they both needed their energy…

♫ When you're smiling, when you’re smiling

                          The whole world smiles with you! ♫

Vincent sat in the fetal position, his face buried into his knees as the music played on and on.

♫ When you’re laughing, oh when you’re laughing

                              The sun comes shining through! ♫

Alastor had set up a record changer to play the same song over and over, creating an endless loop of one song that had been playing for hours now.

♫ But when you’re crying, you bring on the rain! 

                     So stop that sighing, be happy again! ♫

At first, it was pleasant. Vincent hummed along, enjoying the break in silence. But after a few dozen plays, he was close to bashing in his own head to make it stop. He held his hands firmly over his ears, rocking back and forth as he tried with all his might to block it out.

♫ Keep on smiling, 'cause when you're smiling baby

                 The whole world smiles with- ♫

The music suddenly stopped, causing Vincent to nearly cry in relief before even considering finding out what had stopped it. 

Looking up, he was greeted by Alastor's grinning face.

“Evening, mon petite cheu! Are you hungry?”

Vincent was shaking, his head pounding from the hours he had spent listening to the song. He didn’t answer, not trusting himself to restrain from saying something snarky. Luckily, Alastor didn't seem to require one. 

He sat down in front of Vincent, handing him a bowl with a caring smile. Despite his best efforts the prisoner couldn't help smiling back, giving a soft “thank you.” Before taking the bowl. He noticed the bag in his other hand, eyeing it for only a moment before returning his attention to his food. He ate feverishly, humming in satisfaction as he filled his starving belly.

Vincent could feel those eyes, the gaze emanating an air or hunger that rivaled his own. He felt a shiver run down his spine, trying his best to focus on his food. 

Alastor watched his prisoner with fascination. He could almost see the aura of distress that poured from him, his little music experiment seeming to have worked. He could tell Vincent was a mess, his trembling evident as he shoveled food into his mouth. The sight caused the dark energy inside him to swell with satisfaction. He couldn't help the amused grin that tugged at his lips. 

“Gracious! Hungry today, are we?”

To his bemusement, Vincent's eyes flicked up to show a hint of fear. “It's delicious.” He muttered meekly before resuming his meal. Alastor grinned, setting the bag down with a notable thud. This caused a bigger reaction, the brunette looking up at it warily. 

“I brought you a present!” Alastor almost sang, reaching in. He pulled out a colorful gift bag, tissue paper of all colors sticking out. He held it out towards the surprised brunette, a large grin on his face. 

Vincent blinked at it, a small blush forming as he slowly took it, setting it down quickly when he found how heavy it was. “O-Oh! What is it?” Alastor giggled in anticipation. “Open it!” 

Vincent took a moment before reaching inside, a look of uncertainty painted across his face. It turned into one of confusion, then to a happy blush as he slowly pulled out a large coil of chain. He looked up at the host with a wide smile, adorable hope filling his face. “I-Is this…?”

“Yes. A longer chain.” Alastor confirmed in a soft voice, enjoying his pet's reaction. “You’ve been very good for me. I think it’s time for a reward, don’t you?” He watched as excitement returned to his prisoners eyes, looking over the length with a smile. “I’ll be able to reach the whole room!” 

Alastor suppressed the mean laugh that threatened to tear from his throat. Here Vincent was, imprisoned in a basement subjected to torture of several varieties. Yet, the fact that he could now move around the small dim room was enough to make him happier than Alastor had ever seen him.

There was no doubt in his mind that Vincent belonged to him now more than ever before.

Vincent watched in anticipation as Alastor attached the longer chain, the smile on his face almost hurting his cheeks. He was filled with a sense of pride at the gift. He had done well for Alastor. And now he was being rewarded. 

Once the longer chain was attached, he tentatively walked around. His legs were a bit shaky, but it soon felt natural again. He was so relieved he was close to tears. 

Vincent was surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to come face to face with Alastor. The host's eyes were filled with amusement, but his smile dripped with mischief. He wrapped his long delicate arms lazily around Vincent’s neck, twirling his hair absentmindedly. The brunette blushed a deep shade of crimson, his heart fluttering at the sudden closeness. 

Alastor smelled so good. Like a fresh rain mixed with a mysterious spice that tingled his nose. 

“tellement bon pour moi.” came the soft coo, the foreign language dancing into Vincent's ears like the world's sweetest music. It all intoxicated him more than whiskey ever could.

He instinctually placed his hands gently on Alastor's waist, speechless by the boldness of the host's actions. Alastor hummed softly at him, slowly swaying side to side as he led Vincent. The brunette followed his lead into a slow dance, his eyes never leaving the almost smug man only inches from his face. The moment left him breathless, not mattering that there was no music to dance to. All that mattered was those brown eyes and the smile that mesmerized him into complete submission. After a moment Alastor cocked his head at him, his grin widening. 

“You would do anything I asked. Wouldn’t you, mon cheri?” The question was asked with a soft and sultry voice, hot breath grazing Vincent's lips in a way that made him almost dizzy. He nodded without a thought, knowing it wasn’t even a question at this point. His obsession with the man before him was greater than any feeling he had ever felt before. Nothing else mattered now. Only Alastor. 

A pleased giggle bubbled in his captors throat, biting his lip as he gazed into Vincent’s eyes. “I know you would, darling.” He replied, his eyes half lidded in satisfaction. “That’s why I have a very special task for you tonight…..”

Vincent was basking in the glow of Alastor's presence, his eyes fixed on those soft lips. His heart pounded in his chest as he breathed out a response. “Anything….” 

And in that moment, he truly believed he meant it. 

He was disappointed when Alastor pulled away, the grin on his face becoming impossibly wide. The mischief in his eyes was replaced with something else….. Something that immediately put Vincent on edge. 

“Good.” The word was filled with dark foreboding as he backed towards the door. “I’ll be right back. There is a second gift for you tonight, mon cheri….”

With that, he disappeared. Leaving Vincent feeling empty and confused. He frowned as the footsteps ascended the stairs, the room growing quiet once again. Vincent could hear noises upstairs, bumps and shuffling sounding above his head. His heart started to race as he once again heard the footsteps walk down the stairs, seeming heavier and labored. A peculiar thud followed each step, Alastor softly grunting every few seconds. Finally seeming to reach the end, the thumping was replaced with a dragging sound. Becoming louder and louder as it approached Vincent’s room. 

He felt a rush of fear wash over him, not sure what was happening or what to expect. He backed into the wall as he awaited for the noise to reach him. Finally the back of Alastor appeared through the door, seeming to be dragging something heavy. Vincent's heart almost stopped beating entirely when he slowly realized what he was pulling; It was a human body. He gasped in surprise, backing as far into the wall as he could. 

“Vincent. Help me. NOW.”

Alastor's voice was firm and commanding, telling Vincent that he didn't have a choice. His mind in a blur, he shakily approached the upsetting scene. He grabbed onto the legs, assisting in pulling him further into the room. 

“Now help me get him up onto the table.” Came the second command, Vincent complying immediately. With a heavy heave, they lifted the man onto the table. As soon as the task was done, the prisoner took a few steps back. His hands were shaking, eyes searching Alastor for an explanation. “W-What…” was all he managed to get out.

Alastor chuckled at him, his grin malicious and sharp. “Don’t worry, mon amour. He is still alive, if that is what troubles you.”

Vincent's hands gripped his own hair, desperately trying to find the words. He was nearing hyperventilation, causing Alastor to nearly roll his eyes. The calm radio host slowly sauntered over, putting a soothing hand on Vincent’s cheek. “Breathe, mon cher. Breathe.” He said in a soft voice, leading him through a few deep breaths. The brunette slowly calmed down, finally catching his breath. “A-Alastor…. What’s happening?” He pleaded, knowing deep down what the answer was. 

The radio host stroked his hair, his gaze gentle. “Just a little project I need your help with. You can do that, can’t you?” He cooed the words softly, as if he were asking Vincent to help him do some mundane chore. “I-I don’t…..” he responded, searching Alastor's doughy brown eyes. 

“It seems we have run out of meat…..” He responded slyly, leaning forward until their lips were almost touching. “You don't want me to starve, do you?”  Vincent backed away, the horrifying words hitting him slowly as he trembled. “M-Meat?” He asked meekly, his eyes widening. 

Alastor crossed his arms, his lips dancing with amusement. “What do you think I’ve been putting in all of those delicious meals you enjoy so much?”

The world around him stopped, his eyes widening in utter disgust as he realized what Alastor was saying. He turned as the wave of nausea hit him, immediately throwing up into the nearby sink. Tears stung his eyes as he retched, the horror of what he had been consuming hitting him all at once. He took a moment to compose himself, feeling the soft hand on his back as he finished. 

“Look at me.”

The command shouldn't have worked. Vincent should have responded with a line of harsh words… a show of disgust…. Something besides what he did instead. Vincent immediately turned to face Alastor. Like a trained dog.

He disgusted himself, but knew there was little he could do. After all, that is exactly what he was.

Alastor brushed a thumb across his cheek, causing Vincent to lean into his hand in search of safety. “Vincent….. it's time to grow up.” 

The brunette blinked at him, eyebrows furrowed as he waited for him to continue. “In this world, you either consume or be consumed. All of your life, you have been primed for someone else's consumption.” The brown eyes stared intently into Vincent's tear filled ones, the grin never leaving his face.

“Aren’t you tired of being pushed around? Stepped on by every one you meet? I see the way you let people treat you. What right do they have?”

The words stung Vincent, knowing them to be true…. He had spent his whole life being abused by his peers. No matter what they did, Vincent would take it and tell himself “one day they'll respect me….”  It was an agonizing way to live his life, he had to admit. But this?...... he didn’t know if he had it in him. He looked into the stern eyes, not sure what to say.

Alastor gestured at the unconscious figure, the grin on his face widening. “Take a closer look, mon cher….” Vincent gave a confused look before obeying, taking a few shaky steps towards the table. His heart started racing as the realization slowly filled him.

It was the rude receptionist from the hotel.

He gasped lightly, turning around to face the host's pride filled expression. Vincent didn’t have to say a word to relay the question he was asking. The mad grin widened as Alastor approached him once more. 

“The day I arrived to gather your things…. He referred to you as the ‘kid with weird eyes’.” He reached up to stroke Vincent's hair again, his eyes glazing over in anger at the memory. “That insolent buffoon was marked for death at that very moment.” 

Vincent was left breathless by the expression on his face. Those sharp eyes gazed at him with a look of hunger and desire, the lips curled into sadistic pleasure. The brunette's heart skipped a beat with a realization; the look was one of possessiveness. Alastor was perhaps just as obsessed. It was a twisted, unhealthy relationship they shared…. But Vincent couldn't help but be positively overjoyed and touched nonetheless. 

A small smile crossed his face, feeling the burn of his cheeks. “A-Alastor…. I don’t know what to say…..” he almost whispered.

Alastor responded with an eye roll, flashing that coy smile as he began to lean forward. “Oh, shut up.” 

He gently pressed his lips to Vincent’s, causing fireworks to explode inside him. He slowly closed his eyes as he melted into Alastor, welcoming the hunger and fire that consumed him whole. Vincent felt like he was floating as Alastor wrapped his graceful arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. The radio host was greedy and ruthless, biting his lip until it bled with a growl that claimed his very soul. As Vincent hummed with the sensation, he realized he  was more than happy to let him. There was no doubt for him anymore; he belonged to Alastor. And the thought that Alastor wanted to possess him was exciting beyond belief. 

Alastor eventually pulled away, running his tongue across Vincent's lip to clean the remaining blood. Still reeling from the experience, Vincent opened his eyes to see the mad grin that spread in front of him. Alastor reached over at the table near Vincent, grabbing the large knife that sat atop it. He flashed it at the still stunned brunette, his eyes filling with bloodlust. He held the knife out to him.

“Now come, mon cher. Are you ready to ascend the food chain?” 

Vincent gulped as he slowly reached out to grab the blood stained blade, his hands trembling. 

Chapter Text

Hot water streamed down Vincent's face as he watched the blood wash down the drain, mixing with the silent tears that steadily fell. His entire body trembled, his mind swirling with the horrors of his sins.

The blood… the sound of tearing flesh….. The screams…… 

It was fresh in his mind. The events played over and over again without his permission….

Alastor grinned as Vincent slowly took the hacksaw, pleased with how easily his pet could be swayed. 

“Tonight is when you finally become who you were meant to be, mon biquet.” He purred, sadism dripping from his demeanor. The murderer drank in his prisoner's expression, terrified and unsure. 

 Alastor knew; Vincent didn’t need to be sure of anything anymore. He only needed to follow Alastors orders. Soon, his possession would understand this very well. 

The monster inside him swelled with approval as he moved to begin chaining the unconscious body to the table. He could almost hear Vincent’s heart pounding in his chest, his knuckles white as he gripped the tool in his hand. Alastor grabbed a roll of duct tape, covering the victim's mouth with a long strip that wrapped around his head several times. Vincent gave him a quizzical look. The radio host winked at him, his grin widening. “Trust me. It’s going to get loud.” 

To his great pleasure, the brunette's face paled at the answer. He looked on with horror filled eyes. This caused Alastor to roll his own. "Oh come now. does the farmer weep for the cow?"

Vincent furrowed his brow. "Is that all people are to you? Cows?" He softly questioned, voice breaking.

This caused Alastor to let out a laugh, grinning madly at Vincent. "Now you're starting to get it, mon cheu."

When Alastor finished with the tape, he motioned with a playful finger for the trembling figure to approach. He watched Vincent hesitate, his entire being emanating fear. 

“A-Alastor…. I don’t know if I-I can do this…..” He nearly whispered. 

The radio host chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You know how I feel when you whine.” He replied in a teasing voice, reaching forward to offer his hand. Vincent slowly reached out to take it, his palm sweaty. Alastor gently pulled him forward, leading him towards the table. Vincent seemed to start panicking as he resisted, his face paling. “B-But I-” He began.

Alastor cut him off with a snort and an eye roll, reaching up to put a soft hand on his cheek. He hummed a mocking tone while flashing an amused grin.

“You’re so adorable when you think you have a choice….” He said with a sultry voice, staring into Vincent's green and cyan eyes. “We can do this one of two ways, mon cher. You can do what I say, and we will have a little date night. Or…..” he traced a finger along the closed wound on Vincent’s cheek, pressing in with his nail to cause a jolt of pain. The brunette flinched, letting out a small whimper. “You can disobey….. And we remember what happens when we disobey, don’t we?” 

He revelled in the immediate fear that flashed in Vincent’s eyes, the memories of physical and mental torture seeming to return in an instant. Alastor couldn't help the dark chuckle that bubbled up from his throat, biting his lip as he grinned at the captive. “That’s what I thought.” 

Vincent allowed him to once again be led to the table, gripping his hand tightly as he looked down at the task before him. After a moment of silence he looked back up at Alastor, his eyes pleading. “What…. What do you want me to d-do?”

Alastor grinned in a way that showed both rows of teeth, pleased with the question. “Let me show you.” 

This is wrong this is wrong this is WRONG 

The voice inside Vincent's head screamed at him. He desperately wanted to listen to it. To drop the saw and cower in the safety of his corner…. But as he looked up into the fiery brown eyes, he couldn't help but feel the warm sedation that wrapped around him like a fur blanket. 

Alastor wrapped around Vincent from behind, grabbing his wrist to guide the saw forward. “I like to start with the limbs.” Came the soft voice in his ear as Alastors chin rested on his shoulder. Vincent's heart rate increased as the saw slowly moved to the man's upper arm, every fiber of his being wanting to pull away. Alastor must have felt it, his grip on the hand tightening to keep it steady. “Breathe, Vincent. This is happening. So just try to calm yourself….” Vincent took a shaky breath, trying to focus on Alastors scent for comfort as the blade inched closer and closer to the shoulder. 

His humanity was disgusted with him, a deep ache in the pit of his stomach forming that almost made him dizzy. Was he really about to do this? He always considered himself to be a good person. Always kind to those around him, even if they were not kind to him. The man in front of him certainly wasn't kind… but did he deserve this? 

He wondered briefly how many victims met the same fate, dissected on the table for Alastor's hunger and amusement. This caused a worse thought to cross his mind; would he ever end up on this table?

The question chilled him to the bone. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the stop of the blade as it rested on flesh, the grin against his shoulder feeling wide and predatory.“Are you ready, mon biquet?” He immediately started panicking as the question hit his ear, his entire body tensing up. Alastor held him in place firmly, giving a small snicker into his ear.

“Don’t fret, mon amour. I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully. Now when I say, you are going to press down and forward to cut through the flesh. Then you will pull it back through in the same manner. No matter what happens, don’t stop. Compri?”

“W-Wait i’m-”

Vincent wasn't allowed to finish, the firm grip on his hand applying pressure. He felt his arm jerk forward, performing a sawing motion. The sound of blade tearing through skin was loud and sickening. But not as loud as what followed.

The man's eyes shot open, the cut seeming to be a strong enough feeling to override whatever drugs Alastor had subjected him to. 

There was only a moment where the man processed the hell he had awoken to before the gut wrenching scream ripped through his throat. The tape covered the worst of it, but what escaped sent a cold wave of electricity and nausea through Vincent. He felt the body tense under the saw that was now lodged into the arm, trying and failing to thrash away the restraints that held him in place. Vincent instinctually tried to pull away, finding he was also unable to budge. He was held firmly in position, feeling a surprising amount of strength from the man behind him. 

“Do. Not. Stop. Or else it will be you on this table.”

The words were growled into his ear, Vincent suddenly very aware how close those teeth were to his jugular. An insane laughter passed through Alastors closed smile as he forced Vincent’s arm back and forth, digging deeper and deeper into the arm.

Blood quickly poured from the open wound, some spraying onto Vincent as the victim's heart continuously tried to pump it through the now exposed veins. The taste of metallic was thick on his tongue as it flew into his mouth. He tried his best to close it, but the horror in front of him was so grotesque his mouth remained agape. 

Vincent watched the terrified eyes land on him, recognition seeming to take place as they widened further. He could only stare back helplessly as he was made to continue the morbid task, wanting more than anything to apologize for what he was taking part in. they slowly lost their intensity as the blood loss started taking affect, becoming tired and unfocused. The scream grew quieter and quieter with each passing second.

Vincent jolted in shock as the saw suddenly stopped, finally hitting bone. He felt Alastors grinning mouth graze his neck. “You’re doing so well….” It purred, his skin tingling under the hot breath. “Now you’re going to need to help me here, mon biquet. We have to push down much harder to cut through the bone. Ready?”

Vincent was far too numb to resist the orders, feeling a heavy haze as he nodded softly. He gritted his teeth as he pushed down hard with Alastors help, sawing back and forth on the bone. The screams returned to their full intensity, the body violently shuddering with each drag of the saw. Finally, there was a loud snap as they achieved their goal. The rest was easy as Vincent continued sawing, quickly separating the arm from the torso completely. 

The figure behind him allowed him to pull the saw away, looking over what he had done through a cloudy brain. The screams had fallen silent entirely, the armless body staring up at Vincent as he was slowly taken over by blood loss. Alastor nuzzled Vincent’s neck softly, a pleased hum vibrating the skin it was pressed upon. 

“Look, mon cher….. Here comes the best part.”

A slim finger pointed towards the face, directing Vincent’s attention. He watched the scared eyes go from staring at him to slowly unfocusing. They became dimmer and dimmer before the flame that was the soul behind them disappeared entirely. 

Vincent continued staring at the body, shell shocked as the realization hit him; He had just looked into a man's eyes and watched him die. 

The victim was nothing more than a corpse now. Just a pile of meat that he was about to be forced to carve. 

“There. The hard part is over, mon cheu. Now let us continue our work, shall we?” He moved to stand next to Vincent, smiling wickedly at him. His eyes, however, were soft and comforting. Reminding Vincent of his ongoing obsession…… even covered in blood, he could not deny how stunning the man was. 

Alastor talked him through the rest of the tasks, softly encouraging Vincent with coos of “bon garcon” and “Perfect. Just like that. You’re so good at this, mon cher.” As time passed, the task never became easier to stomach. But the praise from the man who gazed at him so intensely filled Vincent with the strength to continue. He sawed through each limb, one by one, until he had disconnected each one. 

“One more to go, cherie.” Alastor drawled in a honey filled voice, motioning towards the head with a sly grin. Vincents eyes widened, not wanting to go anywhere near the unblinking eyes that seemed to follow him around the room. 

Alastor chuckled at his reaction. “Come, Vincent. Let's make this easy. You know I can make you.” The brunette knew this was true without a doubt. He was helpless against the man who stood before him. Before he could even consider the atrocity he was committing, he stepped forward to join his captor. 

Alastor’s grin spread across his face, pleased with the compliance. “Bon garcon….” He hummed. “Now. you’ll want to grab him by the hair for leverage…. Yes, just like that. Now go ahead and start.”

Vincent shakily positioned the saw at the neck, glancing at Alastor nervously one more time before beginning the process. This was much worse than any of the other limbs, a burst of blood covering his face as he made the first cut. He barely held the wave of nausea at bay, unable to look anywhere else but the face as he slowly continued. Every saw seemed to bring on a new horror, the dead eyes rolling around with each shake the tool caused. Vincent could no longer take it after a gurgle of blood escaped the mouth, turning his body to vomit the last amount of bile left in his stomach. Tears streamed down his face, a shaky hand covering his mouth as he dry heaved. 

Alastor watched the pitiful display with a shake of his head, feeling a small sense of pity. He mused to himself whether he felt like showing Vincent mercy.

The beast inside him was more that satisfied, vincent’s display of mental torture enough to fill it for a good amount of time. He sighed, slowly walking over to the hunched man. He placed a soft hand on him, quietly rubbing his back as the brunette continued to retch. “Shh shh…… it’s okay, mon cher….. You can stop.” he spoke the words softly, tilting his head as he observed the large amount of emotions pouring from Vincent. 

This caused the brunette to look up at him, cheeks stained with blood and tears. “R-Really?” He asked in a broken voice, clearly surprised by the mercy being shown.

“Really.” 

Vincent straightened up, searching Alastors eyes for a moment longer as if expecting to find trickery. After finding none, his expression twisted into sadness again before burying his face in Alastors chest and sobbing like a child. 

Alastor blinked in surprise, glancing down at the sobbing figure. He was unsure what to do, having never been in this situation before. He briefly considered shoving him away, eventually deciding not to. Instead, he reached up to rub Vincent’s back. The brunette hugged him tightly as if holding on by his last thread, heavy sobs filling Alastors chest with tears. 

“There there.” he softly cooed, not knowing what else to say. “You’ll be okay.”

He let this go on for a while, finally deciding it was time to end it when Vincent's sobs became a soft sniffle. “Okay, now. Time to get off.” He stated firmly, grabbing the brunette by the shoulders and softly pushing him away. Vincent looked down, seemingly embarrassed at his behavior. Alastor put a soft finger under his chin, lifting to show his face. He gave a soft smile. “There you go. Now why don’t we get you cleaned up, hm? I can finish this.”

Vincent blinked up at him as if in a haze while Alastor slowly unchained his collar, slipping it off. He silently led the brunette forward, feeling a slight moment of hesitation before he followed just as quietly. He seemed surprised by what was happening, but didn’t question it as Alastor helped him up the stairs. Vincent shielded his eyes at the brightness of the world he had been hidden from, staggering slightly. They reached the bathroom, Alastor opening the door to usher him inside. 

“Take a shower. Finish whatever crying you need to finish. I will leave you some clothes at the door for when you’re finished.” He spoke curtly, without expression. His hands were folded neatly behind his back as he awaited a response.  Vincent seemed more than stunned, staring at Alastor with wide doughy eyes. “Th-Thank you….” was all he was able to get out. Alastor nodded once, turning to leave. 

He hummed to himself absentmindedly as he descended the stairs, preparing to finish the job and portion the flesh for breakfast. Deep in thought, he considered his past decisions. He had no idea what possessed him to allow such leniency….. It wasn’t something he thought about before he did it. More of a….reaction than anything else. 

Mercy was something he had never shown another human….. Not since he was a child. But something about the way Vincent sobbed…. It was so pitiful. It filled him with a visceral need to comfort him. He supposed it came from the same place the possessiveness came from. 

Was he losing his edge for this man?

Alastor quickly shook the thought out of his head, not enjoying it in the least. 

Vincent stepped out of the shower, having finally calmed down from the entire ordeal. The scene would never leave his mind…. But he could rest for now. He looked in the mirror, it having been a while since he had seen his own reflection. He was more gaunt then before, clearly stemming from the lack of a consistent diet. He also noticed the red mark on his neck, realizing it was the imprint the collar had left after being on for so long. He touched the mark, finding he didn’t dislike it….. It was a symbol from Alastor. 

Remembering where he was told his clothing would be, he opened the door a crack to see a neat pile of folded cloth on the floor. Quickly grabbing them, he yanked them through the door and shut it. 

Upon further inspection, he noticed they were a pair of soft pajamas. Plush and red. He smiled at the kind gesture, softly blushing as he pulled them on. These moments of kindness were rare with Alastor, and he enjoyed every second of it. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, he spotted Alastor. He was returning from the basement, cleaning his bloody hands with a rag as he exited. He looked up at Vincent to admire the outfit, grinning. “A bit big…. But they’ll do.” he outstretched a hand, motioning him towards the basement door.. “Now come. Time to put you to bed.”

Vincent took a moment to understand what he was saying, fear immediately filling his form. “Y-You mean….” He was answered with a soft nod, as if it were obvious. Vincent started to panic, wrapping his arms around himself as if for protection. 

“I-I can’t! P-Please…. Not tonight…. I can’t go back down there.” he pleaded.

Alastor gave a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples. “Vincent….”

“Please, Alastor….. I can’t be down there alone again…… just for tonight?”

Alastor looked up to study him, an annoyed expression on his face. Vincent pleaded with his eyes, almost close to tears once again. After what felt like forever, Alastor groaned, rubbing his face. “Fine. Just for tonight.”

A smile broke out on Vincent's face, immense relief flooding him.

Mon dieu…. What have I done?

Alastor wondered to himself while he watched the giddy brunette who had a dumb smile plastered on his face. 

“You can sleep on the couch.” Alastor softly commanded. He watched in disbelief as Vincent’s face fell, the sad expression returning. 

“I just…” The brunette started meekly. “I just don't want to be…. Alone… you know?”

Alastor couldn't believe the gall. Vincent could be so needy. So entitled. He glared at him a bit longer, almost deciding to grab him and throw him down those stairs himself. 

But instead, he surprised himself by sighing and angrily pointing towards his bedroom door. “Fine. but you’re sleeping on the floor. Compri?”

Vincent practically ran through the door, leaving Alastor to wonder what the hell was happening with his life. He rubbed his head one more time before sighing and entering the bathroom to shower, muttering to himself the whole way.

“Mais qu'est-ce que je fous? Putain d'idiot, il pleure partout……”

Alastor stepped out of the bathroom, humming softly to himself as he slowly entered his bedroom. The sight of Vincent asleep in his bed made him stop cold. His face began to twist in anger, close to killing the brunette right there and then. After a few minutes of fuming, he calmed himself down. 

Just one night…. then straight to the fucking basement. 

He took a deep breath, too tired to do anything besides slip into bed. He kept as far away from the other man as he could, closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep.

His eyes reopened as he felt a warmth on his chest. He looked down to see Vincent snuggled into him, curled up as he nuzzled him. “G’night…” He muttered, half asleep. Alastor rolled his eyes.

“Just don’t cry on my sheets, Vincent. This is silk.”

Chapter Text

The abyss surrounded Vincent, crushing him with a still silence that was all encompassing. He didn't know where he was, or how he had gotten there. He turned his head in all directions, trying and failing to understand as he stared into the inky black void. 

Before he could ponder his current predicament, a piercing noise tore through his ear drums. He covered his ears tightly, trying his best to block it out. It only took a moment to identify the noise; It was a scream. Loud and full of pain. 

Vincent shut his eyes tight, the intense sensation almost dizzying. He curled into the fetal position, pleading in his mind for the noise to go away. 

Stop stop stop stop STOP DEAR GOD PLEASE STOP

His eyes snapped open as the scream was replaced with his own pleading voice.

“PLEASE STOP DEAR GOD NO!!”

Suddenly, he was standing up. He immediately recognized the concrete walls and the strong smell of must and blood. He was back in the basement. 

“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?”

Vincent looked down, recognizing his own voice. He was horrified at what he saw;

It was him.

Laying on the metal table. His legs and left arm were missing, bloody stumps oozing and twitching. The clone stared up at him with a horror filled expression, seeming to be awaiting an answer as to why Vincent was doing what he was doing. He  tried to think of one, unsure what was even happening. That was when he became aware of his moving right hand. It was currently sawing off his clone's last limb, blood spraying all over him as the sickening noise of tearing flesh filled his ear drums. The nauseating smell of copper filled his nose, the taste of his own blood staining his tongue. He tried to stop moving his arm, but he quickly found he had no control. He could only watch as he mutilated his own body. 

He once again shut his eyes tight in a feeble attempt to escape the gruesome scene. Suddenly, however, he could feel a horrible pain in his arm. He opened his eyes to realize he was now strapped to the table, laying on his back as the pain continued. Looking down, he could see the stumps where his limbs used to be, blood spilling onto the floor. 

“I’m doing this because I can. I OWN YOU, mon biquet!”

The voice snapped his attention upward, the crazed murderous gaze meeting his own. It was Alastor, standing above him with a mad bloodthirsty grin that stretched his face in a way that was almost inhumane. The radio host was fervently sawing off his arm, the jerk of the blade causing his entire body to shake. 

He watched on in horror as Alastor let out a loud insane laugh, filling every inch of the small dark room. Vincent let out a pained scream as the blade cut through his bone, fully separating his last limb. Still laughing, Alastor raised the severed arm to his lips. Giving him one last crazed laugh, he tore into the limb with a feral hunger. The murderer ate the arm as if it were a large drum stick, pieces of blood and flesh flying everywhere.

Before Vincent faded into nothingness, there was one more thing that caught his eye; Behind Alastor was a figure. It was large and black, towering over the scene. Looking closer, he could see the figure had a large sharp smile plastered where he supposed its face was. Besides the smile, there was one more feature that he noticed. Two large glowing red orbs stared down at them. He realized they were eyes, wide and amused.

Everything blurred into nothingness as he was once again crushed by the void.

Vincent awoke with a shout, covered in a cold sweat. He sat up quickly and frantically checked his body, the horrible laugh still echoing in his mind. 

Relief flooded him as he realized he was fine. It was just a dream…. Vincent hung his head, trying to slow his pounding heart. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, forcing himself to perform deep breaths to calm himself down. Finally lifting his head, he glanced around to remember where he was. 

I'm in Alastor's bed. 

The thought caused him to blush fiercely, barely remembering his thought process the night before…. He recalled Alastor telling him to sleep on the floor. But… that was before he saw the magnificent bed fit for a king. Vincent had never seen a bed in his life so decadent and regal…  The comforter was velvet, the sheets pure silk. The many pillows, overstuffed and begging to be laid on. Framing it all were dark wooden posts, holding up a canopy draped with a sheer red fabric. 

After sleeping on a hard cot for so long, it was far too tempting.

He felt genuine surprise that Alastor didn't literally kill him when he found out….. did he sleep next to me?  The thought caused his stomach to flip, deciding there was no way. Alastor would get close to Vincent, sometimes even cuddly, but he only did so when he needed something….. like a tool he used to convince the brunette of just about anything. But… to snuggle with no motive? Vincent wasn’t convinced that he would ever do such a thing.

Quickly pushing it out of his mind, he slowly got up from the bed. Where was Alastor, anyways? Noticing the neat folded clothes on the credenza, he quickly got dressed and straightened up the bed. He was sure Alastor wouldn’t be pleased if he had left it unmade…. 

Vincent ventured out of the room, walking down the hallway in search of the kitchen once again. He treaded softly as he walked down the hallway, listening for any sounds that could indicate where he was supposed to be going……. Instead, his nose perked as he smelled something savory. Realizing it was food, he followed it down the hall until he came across a slightly ajar door. Pushing it open, he stepped into a sleek kitchen, the chill of checkered tile floors touching his feet. 

The kitchen was as beautiful as the rest of the house, clean and luxurious. New aged appliances glistened in the morning sun, some so state of the art Vincent didn't recognize them. Mixed in was decor and ware that reflected Alastor's love for old fashioned beauty, a large collection of cast iron hanging from a rack attached to the ceiling. It was all so impressive, yet quaint.  

That was when he saw Alastor, humming a tune with his back to Vincent as he stood over the stove top. He turned and spotted him, the usual sly grin immediately adorning his face. The brunette noticed the frilly apron he wore, the shape accentuating his delicate hips. 

“Goodmorning, mon cheu. Sleep well?” a hint of a sneer accompanied the grin. “I must say, you always manage to surprise me with your insubordination. Taking up residency in my personal bed….” 

Vincent could feel his face heat up, fidgeting with the button on his shirt as he looked away. “Y-Yeah, sorry about that…… I guess I wasn’t thinking straight last night….” Flashes of the gruesome night before invaded his mind, causing a small shiver to run up his spine. He had almost felt drunk before falling asleep, the carnage causing his brain to blur. 

Alastor tutted at him, returning his attention to the pan on the stove. “Oublie ça.” He responded in silky french. “I’m guessing you’re hungry. Take a seat.”

Vincent followed the command, silently moving to the small dining table sat in the corner. He admired the small vase set in the middle, a single delicate flower sticking out. A glass of ice water was set in front of him, causing him to realize how thirsty he was. He picked it up, quickly downing it with a loud gulping noise. 

Alastor set two plates down, wrinkling his nose distastefully. “Manners, Vincent.” He softly reprimanded. Looking down, the brunette observed the meal in front of him. Two eggs, a fruit medley, and a slice of meat. His face paled, looking up at the grinning man across him.

“Is this….?”

“But of course. What a silly question.”

Vincent nodded softly, looking back down at his plate. He made a mental note to remember that any meat Alastor served him was most likely human. He slowly ate the fruit and egg, avoiding the meat for the time being. “So….” he tried to make conversation. “What’s on the agenda today?” 

Alastor ate delicately, his table manners impeccable. It caused Vincent to evaluate his own behavior, trying to mirror him. “The usual song and dance.” he softly replied, his gaze fixed on his meal. “First, work. Perhaps a bite at the diner. Maybe some light shopping…..” 

Vincent nodded, swallowing his bite. “Sounds fun! I miss their coffee….” His statement caused Alastor to chuckle meanly, his eyes flicking up to the brunette.

“Oh do you, now? And what makes you so sure you’re coming with?”

Vincent paused, stopping mid bite. “I… I guess I just thought…..” Came the meek words, shrinking under the intense gaze that danced with amusement. Alastor raised a brow at him, the small smile almost mocking. “You just thought what? Do you not remember our deal last night?” 

“D-Deal?” Vincent replied softly, confusion filling his features. 

“Our DEAL, Vincent.” came the harsh reply. “ONE NIGHT. That is what I promised you. Is this what happens when I show you leniency? You make yourself at home?”

Vincent’s face began to pale, panic setting in as he slowly realized what Alastor meant by this. “B-but… I don’t want to go back….. I p-promise I’ll be-”

He was startled as Alastor suddenly stood, slamming his hands on the table. The vase fell, crashing to the floor and breaking into a million pieces. He towered over Vincent, the glare full of anger and frustration. 

“YOU SEEM TO MISUNDERSTAND YOUR POSITION." His tone was loud and booming, terrifying Vincent immediately. He had never experienced this level of anger from the usually composed individual. “Do N̵͉O̖T̜̤͟ make the mistake of thinking you have earned your place next to me. Your work last night was pitiful and sloppy. Weakness will NOT be rewarded in this household. Do I make myself clear?”

With that he calmly took his seat, quietly returning to his food. Vincent watched him stunned, unsure what to say or do. Alastor cut into his meat, his eyes trained on his own food.

“Now eat your breakfast so I can put you away and go to work.” 

Vincent trembled as he followed him down the hall, the basement door radiating the darkness it held inside. 

He didn't want to go back…. The night upstairs had spoiled him, giving him a brief moment of false hope that the worst was over. He kicked himself, realizing he should have known better…..

Alastor opened the door theatrically, gesturing with a grand sweep of his arm. “After you, mon cher!”

Vincent bit his lip, feeling the cold sweat form. He desperately wanted to object, but knew it would only spell trouble. Alastor narrowed his eyes at the prisoners hesitation. “Now.” He demanded in a tone that said ‘don't make me push you down these stairs' Vincent sighed in defeat, head down as he slowly walked through the door. He took one last look behind him at the grand red home filled with luxuries beyond his imagination. 

“Don’t make me late for work, Vincent.”

The brunette blinked away a small tear before turning back around to descend the stairs. The sound of the door closing was almost sickening, continuing forward towards the lower level door that led to the room from his nightmare.

“Lift your chin.” 

Alastor grinned at him as his prisoner obeyed, placing the metal collar around his neck and locking it shut. He tilted his head at the brunette, smiling at his handiwork.

“Much better. Didn't you miss this?”

Vincent remained silent, avoiding Alastor's eyes. This made him snicker, always enjoying how pathetic the brunette looked when he was upset. He pouted mockingly, squeezing Vincent's cheek. “Oohhhh….” he cooed, as if consoling a child. “Don’t look so glum! Now you have a goal to work towards! Isn't that marvelous?”

He could tell how pissed off Vincent was, although he was clearly trying his best to hide it. The prisoner glanced up at Alastor, his brows furrowing slightly. “What….. What goal?” he asked tentatively, a hint of worry crossing his face. A dark chuckle escaped Alastor's throat as he grinned at his pet.

“I'm so glad you asked, mon cher.”  the words drawled in a voice laced with malicious intent. “You failed me last night, Vincent. Your effort was pathetic and sloppy. We can't have that, can we?”  He reveled in the hurt look that crossed Vincent’s face. He traced a soft finger along his pet's jaw in a show of power.  “Of course not. So here's the deal; Before I decide whether I wish to let you go, you need to be able to perform the task to my satisfaction. No emotions. No hesitation. No upheaval. So I suggest you get over your squeamish qualms, compri?” 

He flashed one more grin before turning, starting to take his leave for the day. Before he reached the door, Vincent’s voice caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

“Sloppy?? Says the man who left the basement door unlocked for anyone to just walk through.“

Everything stopped. Alastor fell silent, frozen in place as he digested what Vincent had said. The familiar darkness began to overcome him, his teeth slowly baring as anger filled his entire being. 

goodness, this was going to be fun.

Vincent regretted the words the second they left his mouth. He had no idea what possessed him. He was just so upset with the current events….. Walking into this room again started a panic in him that he had never felt before. The trauma from the previous night overwhelmed him to a point where it slowly turned to anger. He didn’t even realize the mouthy comment had left his lips until it was already too late…..

He could only stand there helpless as he awaited the reaction. Vincent could swear the room became slightly darker, shadows climbing the walls as Alastor remained terrifyingly still. After what seemed like an eternity, Alastor turned his head towards Vincent. A dark chuckle left his sharp grin.

“What did you just say to me?”

The voice was soft and amused but filled with a terrifying bloodlust that caused Vincent’s veins to immediately run cold. He took a small step back, eyes widening as he stuttered. “N-Nothing I, um-” 

Alastor fully turned around to face him with an expression that caused Vincent to ponder if those were the last words he would ever say. He backed up until he hit the wall, desperately wishing he could disappear into the cold stone.

Vincent could only watch as the murderer took his time, stalking toward him slowly with hands folded behind his back. The radio host bared his teeth in a hungry sneer, his eyes filled with a fire that meant to consume Vincent whole. As he approached the prisoner, he reached into his pocket to retrieve a pocket knife. It was swiftly opened with a flick of his wrist, the sharp blade flashing in the low light. Before Vincent could try to back track, Alastor sprung forward to grab his chain. 

The grinning predator slowly wrapped it around his fist until it was pulling tightly against Vincent's neck. The prey was shoved hard against the wall, his head bouncing off the concrete. Alastor pressed the knife against his jugular, a trickle of blood trailing down his neck. Vincent lifted his chin as far as he could in an effort to escape the piercing blade. Alastor's eyes glared into his, seeming to take on a shade of blood red. He moved close enough for Vincent to feel the graze of his murder laden breath.

“If you EVER say that again, I will TEAR  your FLESH apart with my B̹ͤA͇̟R͗E̻ T̰EȄT̜͓H and devour you ALIVE. Along with every other D͔Ȋ͎̝ͪ͟SŔ̴̡̊͛̒͡E̖̩͕͒͘Š̘̝̦͆͜͡P̨̻EČ̶̘̥̥͂T̳̱͒͒͞F̜͖͑ͪͅU͠L̐͑ WȐ͙̫͈̌ͯͦË́͛T̝́ͅC̪̍ͪH̬̜̚ who DARES question me. Understood?” 

Vincent gave an audible gulp, trembling under the threat.

“U-Understood.”

“Lovely.”

Vincent was practically thrown to the floor, letting out a pained grunt at the impact. Shaking, he propped himself up on an elbow while he watched his captor disappear.

The soft clicking from the grandfather clock slowly soothed the angry radio host as he sipped his whiskey. He was sat in front of his large fireplace, enjoying the warmth it brought. 

The fucking nerve of that man…..

It was reaching the late hours of the evening, but he was still quite upset with Vincent. It was the first time he had ever spoken to Alastor that way….

The beast inside him pulsed, sending images to Alastor's brain of devouring Vincent. This was a regular addition to his anger. The beast never spoke to him through language, but would instead communicate through imagery. It was completely unavoidable, but only happened in moments of anger or hunger. It did, however, prove to annoy the radio host immensely. 

Alastor rubbed his temples, letting out a sigh. “No. I'm not going to kill him.”

A few years ago, he found himself answering aloud. As if in conversation. It answered back with more imagery.

“Because he is far more valuable alive.” Alastor rested his tired head on his hand, his elbow propped on the arm of his chair.

“I'm not letting him get away with anything. He’ll get his punishment in increments…. Starting with no dinner.”

He took a long drink from his whiskey, not enjoying the accusations that were being thrown at him. “I'm not going soft. I'm merely keeping him alive. I deserve my amusement too, you know.”

Pouring another glass, he scoffed at the creature inside him. It was almost as needy as Vincent….

“Yes yes… I remember my obligations…. He will come around in no time. And then it'll be more food for you, and more fun for me. You'll see.”

This seemed to satiate the demon for now… but he knew he didn't have long before it gave him no choice in the matter. 

The day in the basement was cold and unpleasant. 

Vincent spent most of it shivering on his cot, the blanket giving little comfort. Having once thought it was a marvelous gift from the man he admired, he now realized that it was most likely the least comfortable blanket Alastor owned. 

The smell of copper and mold was maddening, only reminding him of the horrors he was subjected to. He did his best to think of anything else, but nothing could stop the gruesome images from replaying over and over again. Whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was the life leaving the dying man's eyes…. The spark, forever extinguished. All because of him.

And Alastor expected him to do it again. Even more so, he expected Vincent to do it well with no reservations. He hugged his knees, not seeing how that could ever be a reality….. 

The treatment he was receiving was atrocious. He should have hated the radio host. But…deep down, he knew he wanted more than anything to make Alastor happy. He missed the days where it seemed so easy. Carry his coat, order his meal, open a door….. But this? 

He didn’t see how it could ever be possible…. However, Vincent knew that Alastor would keep trying. He would be forced to participate in murder after murder until the sadistic man got what he wanted. The thought was enough to cause Vincent to start dry heaving again.

This was going to kill him. I'm going to die here….

Or, simply lose his mind all together. Then, Alastor would find no use in him and kill him anyways. 

He could already feel things slipping away. He had been hallucinating recently, during these high stress moments. It was always the same; A shadow figure that watched him from afar. It was tall and foreboding, appearing without the use of anything to cast it. He could swear it adorned a smile full of sharp teeth, even though he knew shadows didn’t have teeth…. It was usually in his nightmares, but showed up in his waking life a few times.

He knew this was a product of his slipping mind…. But no matter how often he told himself it was all in his head, it never ceased to frighten him. As he looked over to the corner of the room, he could see it now….. Watching him with that horrible smile. He did his best to ignore it, repeating to himself that it wasn’t real. 

And that wasn’t all. He had experienced a new one earlier that day; Auditory hallucinations. During the terrifying moment when Alastor threatened his life, he could have sworn there was a moment where his voice sounded odd…. As if it were coming through a speaker. 

The thought made him shiver, trying to push it out of his mind. He had to keep it together…. Perhaps he could make Alastor happy through different means. Show his helpfulness through other chores perhaps?

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of his growling stomach. He was starving…. But after waiting so long, he realized that Alastor wasn’t going to be bringing him food tonight, most likely still angry with him. He could only hope his captor would take pity on him in the morning with breakfast.

Laying down, Vincent did his best to ignore the grinning shadow on the wall and try to fall asleep.