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The Hazbin Hotel (Lobby) – Alastor
“And what, my dear,” Alastor asked, fingers tightening on his cane, “is that?”
Charlie stood by the lobby desk, bouncing up and down with excitement. In her arms, she held what Alastor could only describe as a white, fluffy absurdity.
“It’s a bunny!” she gushed. “A bunny, Alastor! Isn’t she adorable?”
Alastor took a step closer, narrowing his eyes. The bunny’s nose twitched.
“A rabbit. You’ve brought a rabbit into a hotel. In Hell.”
“Obviously! She’s a pet. That’s what you do with pets, Alastor. You take them home with you.”
“I’m familiar with the concept, my dear. What I can’t seem to grasp is why you decided to bring home a floppy-eared piece of vermin when you already have an animate hotel key and stuffed dragon that are perfectly animal-adjacent.”
“Because she’s cute! Her name is Halo.”
Alastor wrinkled his nose.
“Halo. You’ve named the hotel’s pet stew meat after something belonging to the very people who tried to kill us all just months ago.”
“It’s symbolic. She represents new beginnings. New hotel, new relationship with Heaven, new bunny! It makes sense.”
“You and I seem to have very different definitions of—”
“Hold her, Alastor.”
“I beg your—”
“Hold her.”
Charlie stepped forward before Alastor could react, pressing Halo into his arms. She scrambled briefly, clawing up against his chest, then settled. Alastor froze.
“Charlie,” he said slowly. “Remove the rabbit from my arms now.”
“Nope!”
“Charlotte Morningstar.”
“Just hold her, Alastor. She’s the sweetest. Watch what happens when you touch her little face.” Charlie reached out with a single finger, scratching Halo between the eyes. The rabbit immediately turned her head, nuzzling up into her hand. “See?! She loves it!”
Alastor stared down, clenching his jaw.
“This is the most undignified thing that’s ever happened to me,” he muttered.
“But?” Charlie pressed.
“But I’ll indulge your ridiculous idea, just this once.”
Charlie squealed. Alastor flinched, briefly considering taking it back, then sighed. He shifted, freeing one hand from underneath Halo’s body. He poised his index finger, hovering just above her nose. Charlie nodded encouragingly.
“Go on! Just a little scratch. You can do it!”
Alastor rolled his eyes, then brought his finger down.
Halo bit him.
“Fuck!” he yelled, throwing up his arms. Halo fell to the floor.
“Alastor!” Charlie screamed, lunging down. Halo slipped through her grasp, running across the lobby. Alastor gripped his bitten finger.
“She bit me, Charlie! Your pestilent little pest just bit me, for no good reason!”
“She’s probably just scared!”
“And for good reason, too. I’m going to show her what happened to rabbits back in my day. My mother had a wonderful recipe for—”
“What the fuck is goin’ on in here?”
Angel Dust stood in the front doorway, a purse hanging from one shoulder and a feather boa from the other. He crossed all four arms.
“Alastor’s going to eat the bunny!”
“Because the bunny tried to eat me!”
Angel’s eyes moved from Alastor, still clutching his finger, to Charlie, sprawled across the carpet, to the bright white form of Halo, now nibbling on the edge of the bar. His eyes widened.
“We got a bunny?!” he asked excitedly, purse and boa abandoned as he rushed over the threshold. Alastor glowered.
“Not for long, let me assure you. Give me two minutes and I’ll—”
“Outta my way, Freaky Face! Let me see my new baby.”
Angel brushed past him in three long strides, crossing over to the bar and swooping down in one fluid movement. He scooped Halo into his arms, holding her up to his face.
“Oh, aren’t you the cutest thing. Yes you are, yes you are,” he cooed. “Where’d Auntie Charlie find you, hmm?”
“I saw her in a shop window. Someone was selling her as Hellhound food. I couldn’t just leave her there,” Charlie said, picking herself up from the floor. Angel gasped dramatically.
“How could someone even think about doing that to such a pretty little thing?” he asked, bringing himself and Halo nose-to-nose.
“Hold her much closer and you’ll find out,” Alastor murmured.
Angel’s face touched Halo’s. She froze for a moment, then pushed her face closer, licking his nose. Angel burst into laughter.
“Hey, that tickles! You’re just a little sweetheart, ain’tcha?”
Alastor snarled.
“She is no such thing! That rabbit is a pest with no respect for authority! She clearly has a vendetta against anyone who questions her true intentions.”
Angel was already halfway to the elevator.
“Fat Nuggets is going to love you, sweetheart. You’re gonna be the prettiest little princess in his whole joint.”
Charlie hurried after him. Alastor watched them go, then stepped into the shadows with a growl.
Halo, to Alastor’s disdain, became a permanent resident.
This was agreed on unanimously, ‘unanimously’ meaning by everyone except for himself, even Husk having shrugged and grunted ‘Just keep her off my bar’ in approval. Within a day, the staff fridge was filled with leafy greens and a bag of what smelled suspiciously like lawn clippings. Within two, a makeshift pen made out of fireguards was erected in the lobby, lined with newspapers and old linens. Within three, Lucifer replaced it with a permanent structure, complete with a miniature cottage, a functional white picket fence, and a patch of fresh grass that appeared almost entirely normal but for the way it occasionally sparkled and spontaneously replenished itself.
Alastor was not impressed.
“Let me get this straight,” he said, on the sixth day. “I had to moan for three weeks to get a single armchair moved from the fireplace to the window, but this glorified rat squeaks once, and we redesign the entire hotel to accommodate her needs.”
“Stop being jealous of the rabbit, Alastor. It’s not a cute look on you,” Vaggi said from the sofa. Angel, sitting at the bar with Husk, snorted into his drink.
“What she said, Smiles. Longer you complain about it, the longer you’re gonna be miserable. Just give in to your new bunny overlord.”
Alastor dug his fingers into his cane.
“There is exactly one overlord in this room, Angel Dust, and I assure that it is not the carrot-munching fluffball currently trying to eat her own foot.”
“Rabbits can’t eat carrots,” Husk said, not looking up from the glass he was polishing. “Too much sugar. Charlie left a note about it on the fridge.”
“Oh, thank-you, Husker, I must have missed it. How careless of me to skip the latest issue of Wabbit Weekly.”
“Don’t say that too loud. Charlie’ll hear you and think it’s a great idea.”
“Oh, why not. I’m already being forced to share my home with the creature that assaulted me. Might as well make a publication out of it.”
Vaggi stood up from the sofa.
“Are you done, or are you going to keep whining like a toddler?”
Alastor turned to face her.
“My dear, that’s simply insulting,” he said.
“Yeah, to the toddler,” Vaggi bit back.
“My dear—”
“It was a fluke, Alastor. A stupid, one-time fluke. Stop taking one little nip like a personal attack and just pat the damn bunny.”
Alastor glared. Vaggi glared back.
“I…”
“Pat the bunny, Alastor.”
Alastor broke her gaze.
“Fine.”
He turned on his heel and walked back across the lobby, reaching the corner with the pen. Halo was perched in the patch of grass, nibbling away, both ears twitching contentedly. Alastor hesitated.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared!” Angel called. Alastor knelt down.
“No such thing! Merely meeting an old adversary.”
He leaned over, reaching slowly into the pen. Halo’s tail flicked.
“Get on with it,” Husk grunted. Alastor threw him a look over his shoulder.
“Hello, my dear,” he said to Halo. “I’ve been told we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s fix that, shall we?”
He lowered his hand, giving the slightest brush against Halo’s fur. He slowly, ever so slowly, stroked up to her head.
Halo spun around and nipped his palm. Alastor yelped.
“You see?! The weasel has something against me!”
He stumbled back from the pen, clenching his hand. The room went quiet.
“Damn, Smiles,” Angel finally said. “Maybe she does.”
The Hazbin Hotel (Penthouse Suite) – Charlie
The shout came at seven-thirty on the thirteenth morning.
“Charlie Morningstar!”
Charlie jolted from her bed, where she’d been scrolling on her phone, procrastinating getting up. She sat bolt upright.
“Was that Alastor?” she asked Vaggi, who had already leapt out of bed.
“Do you know any other radio freaks who can yell loud enough to be heard from five floors up?”
Charlie gulped.
“He doesn’t sound happy.”
Vaggi tugged on her nightgown.
“He never sounds happy, babe. Let’s just go and find out the specific reason he’s not happy this time so we can get five more minutes to ourselves.”
They made their way downstairs, huddling against each other in the elevator. When the doors opened to the ground floor, they found themselves face-to-face with Angel, who immediately started shaking his head with an expression that could only be described as you’re screwed.
“Hope you brought all your peacemakin’ manuals, toots,” he said, pulling them out of the elevator and taking their place. Charlie glanced down the hall.
“What happened?” she asked. Angel shook his head.
“Go find out for yourself. Quick warning, though: the last guy to do somethin’ like this got catapulted for a lot less.”
He jammed a palmful of buttons, vanishing as the elevator doors closed. Charlie turned to Vaggi, heart sinking.
“You don’t think…?”
Vaggi grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down the hall.
Charlie noticed three things when she stepped into the lobby: Alastor was standing by the desk, he looked angry, and he wasn’t wearing his coat.
“Charlie. Nice of you to join me,” he said through clenched teeth, tilting his head sideways. Charlie bit her lip.
“Hey, Alastor. I, um… I heard you call for me.”
Alastor’s smile stretched a fraction wider.
“Ah, yes, funny story, that,” he said. “Tell me, dear, did you know that the lovely enclosure your father built for your darling bunny rabbit has a gate?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Good, good. And what do gates do, Charlie?”
“They… Open and close?”
“Precisely! And did you know that when you leave the gate open overnight, your pitiful piece of pelt can escape the enclosure and find the coat your poor, unsuspecting Facilities Manager left downstairs by mistake?”
Alastor jabbed a finger at the floor by the sofa. On it, lay a pile of mangled, red, hole-ridden cloth, patterned with all-too-familiar stripes. Charlie gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
“Oh my goodness, Alastor, I’m so, so sorry.”
Alastor’s eye twitched.
“Sorry doesn’t un-chew my coat, now does it dear?”
Vaggi stepped forward, pulling Charlie behind her.
“Alastor, don’t overreact,” she said warningly. Alastor cackled.
“Overreact? Why, dear Vagnes, I think we can agree this is a tame reaction to the destruction of a custom-made, quality, extremely expensive garment.”
Charlie peeked out from behind Vaggi.
“What can I do to make it up to you, Alastor? Just say the word.”
Alastor leaned back against the desk.
“Well, naturally, my first desire is to catch and roast the perpetrator, who I believe is currently behind the bar chewing on Husk’s mop,” he said. Charlie let out a distressed squeak. “But I suppose there is something you could do to persuade me otherwise.”
“Anything,” Charlie said immediately.
Alastor gestured around the room.
“Let me redecorate the foyer. Wallpaper, furnishings, no questions asked. I’ll get a new coat, and we’ll call ourselves even.”
“Deal!”
The previous evening
The Hazbin Hotel (Lobby) – Alastor
Everyone else had gone to bed by the time Alastor made his way downstairs. He liked it that way. No Husk behind the bar to shoot him glances across the room, no Angel Dust to interrupt his reading, no Charlie to ruin his evening with her relentless optimism. Just Alastor, the room, and the rabbit pen.
The gate was open.
“Hmm,” he said to himself, glancing around. No sign of Halo.
He went about as usual, retrieving his current book from behind the desk and settling in his armchair by the window. He opened it across his lap and began to read, tongue pursed between his teeth. He’d been sitting for around ten minutes by the time he felt something brush against his ankles.
“Oh,” he said, glancing down. “Hello, my bucktoothed bête noire. Come to take another bite?”
Halo was huddled against his ankles, looking up at him with wide, dark eyes. Her nose twitched. Alastor put his book aside, leaning forward on his elbows.
“You have to understand why I’m not rushing to coddle you,” he said. “You haven’t exactly been kind to me so far.”
Halo’s ears flicked.
“Well, that is a compelling argument,” Alastor conceded. “If I attempt to pick you up, do you agree to stand down?”
Her tail vibrated. Good enough. Alastor leaned down and, against his better judgement, wrapped his hands around the bunny.
Halo went willingly.
“Hmm.”
Cautiously—embarrassingly cautiously for a man who had once felled overlords and been home in time for tea—he lowered Halo into his lap. She scrambled for a moment, then settled.
Settled.
Like she hadn’t spent the better part of the past two weeks trying to pierce his skin every time he touched her.
“Well then. You’ve had enough fun with me, have you?”
Halo, of course, didn’t answer.
They sat in silence for what felt like thirty minutes. After ten, Alastor became aware of the fact that he’d started petting her. He didn’t stop.
Another twenty minutes passed before he spoke again.
“Perhaps you’re not so bad after all, little one.”
Halo nuzzled against his thigh, purring.
“Now, now, don’t go getting too excited. Charlie will hear you, and she’ll never let me hear the end of it.” He glanced over at the pen, with its still-open gate. “Speaking of, she ought to be more careful. You could destroy any number of things if left out unsupervised all night.”
The idea came to him slowly.
“You know, this lobby is more tasteless than the last one. I’ve been trying to improve it ever since I came home, but apparently I don’t get an opinion,” he said. “And I do have an old coat I’ve been meaning to get rid of.”
Halo thumped her foot.
“Yes, yes, fair point. You should get something in return.” Alastor paused. “How about I double your floorplan in the renovation?”
