Shadow Trails ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadow Trails ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-- TW kinda detailed gore/violence and death ahead --

The being got pelted with rain as it walked along the sidewalk, trying to find some proper shelter. The rain never ended as it shivered in its torn clothing.

It briefly inspected its surroundings as it walked, seeing how the rain turns yellow and sizzles when it touches anything. Its brown clothes started to gain small burns from the downpour after a while.

The sidewalks were cracked with unknown stains, burns, and fluids stuck in the gutters. These discolored the puddles and small streams from the storm, making everything seem polluted and unsavory.

Everything else looked like your average town back in New Oreans, but something was off about this place. Everything seemed uncanny. Where small details should be, there were slights in what its memory provided.

It eventually found something when it passed a boarded up speakeasy with the name 113 Club. It had an alley with stone steps leading up to a side door, with a small awning it could probably fit under.

It immeadietly ran towards the awning before crouching down at the top of the stairs, barely staying out of the acid.

As soon as it no longer felt the burning sensation, it sagged onto the stairs slightly. It started to breathe slower and closed its eyes for a second of rest.

Then it opened its eyes again, seeing this place now with focused vision. It now realized what it had found odd about the place. The building had sharper angles and desigbs than what it had remebered, with many shades of red and black coloring the entire area.

Even the plants and sky were red from what it could see through the storm clouds. The clouds themselves seemed darker than usually possible, not even mentioning the precipitation that came from them.

It leaned back onto the locked door, feeling the rough wood and peeling paint against its back. It tilted its head up, looking towards the clouds.

'How did I wind up... here?' It thought. Closing its eyes, it tried to recall the events leading up to this, but all it turned up was blurry visions and static.

The being tilted its head down in thought, trying to think of anything from before it got stuck in this place. But its mind seemed scattered; as only bits came back to it.

It started to get irritated. 'Why can't I remember anything. What... happened to me.' The rain seemed to fall harder, hissing as it hit the ground more and more, becoming unbearable to the beings' sensitive ears.

It huffed, putting its head in its arms. Gritting its teeth, it tried to think back again. Anything to try and-

*BANG*

The being snaps its head up, ears flicking in alert. It looked to the sky.

*BANG*

Lightning strikes the open street, thunder crackling to life a second later. Its pupils turn to pinpricks, with the shadows lashing out, tearing up the wall behind it.

But the being didn't notice, as that strike finally jogged its memory.

A gunshot. It remembered a gunshot.

It... He was running. From who, he didn't know. He could only feel his shoes imprinting onto the soil as he fled.

He remembers hunting dogs barking in the background as he tried to escape; bullets flying past his head as he weaved through the dense forest.

His pursuer was never far behind, though, as the noise of the dogs seemed to only get closer and closer at every second.

He ran and lightly jumped over the protruding roots and shrubs that covered the familiar forest floor, some lowering or diverting their branches to make an easier path.

But the pursuer was never slowed down, it seemed, as the weighted steps of the hunter were still heard behind him.

Even when he was weaving between thick trunks and sheltered by the shadows cast by the moon, the hunter never let up. He supposed he could respect the tenacity.

Bullets often shot into nearby trees, throwing debris in every direction. He occasionally got nicked in the neck, arms, and torso, but nothing was too severe; he had to keep running anyway.

Yelling could suddenly be heard, curses of every scale being spat out in anger alongside the furious howels of those beasts the sloppy hunter had brought with him.

A certain click from reloading was all he got before he had to dodge again, bullets whistling by as he laughed at the absurdity, the noise echoing through the trees.

His grin grew as the soil turned to mud: signifying that the bayou was getting close. The smell of musk and stale water filled his nose as a strong breeze blew throughout.

His dress shoes were probably completely ruined by now: the mud sticking to his soles. The ground is now filled with small, muddy puddles as he kept going deeper and deeper into his bayou.

He could feel his power slowly growing; shadows flickering at the edges of his vision. Water splashed up to his pant cuff as he crashed through progressively bigger puddles.

Almost there. Another bullet whistled by his head, lodging into a tree a couple of inches away from his head. Just a bit more.

The footsteps behind him suddenly became silent. A sense of unease filled him as he continued his pace. He wasn't going to stop just because some Joe decided to-

*BANG*

White hot pain suddenly shot up from his left calf, causing his leg to collapse at the shock. He quickly had a face full of dirt, his brown framed glasses shattered on the ground.

What just happened.

He felt blood slowly run down his leg and onto the ground. He tried to stand up, but shots of pain from his leg quickly threw him back down again. Ha! It'll take more than that to keep me-

The world started to spin around him, the shadows from the trees growing in size as he failed to pull himself forward.

Then thosewretched dogs found him; they rushed at him with immense speed.

He felt the teeth sinking into his flesh, tearing out the muscles with ease, taking chunks out at a time. The pain flashed up in waves as he felt more and more blood flow down his limbs and soak into the mud.

He clenched his jaw, throwing his body, trying to get the dogs off of him. With the little strength he had, he was able to pull out a knife from his belt and slash one of the beasts across the stomach.

It fell back, and he focused his slashes onto the second dog. He was able to strike two of its legs before it finally staggered away. He took a quick breath, the comforting smell of murky water and moss helping clear his head slightly.

The mud stuck to his skin as he crawled forward. He was so close now. He just needed a bit further. He needed to get to the water.

He dug his hands deep into the earth, pulling himself forward again. But the pain from everything became too much; his vision becoming cloudy from the blood loss.

The blood created a dark trail as it colored the soil he was laying on, the deeper slashes on his left arm giving most of the scarlet liquid away. The scratches and bites on his body became almost unnoticeable.

He could barely see the swamp up ahead. The still water brought back some determination as he tried to crawl through the pain.

But he was never that lucky.

He remembers the boots stepping in the mud behind him, leisurely walking up behind, the hunter taking his precious time, as to drag on this entire dabacol.

He couldn't see the pursuer clearly, as his glasses werent for nothing and the blood loss obviously did some things to his vision. The hunter had pulled him to lay on his back, staring him down.

The hunter suddenly stepped onto his right leg, using his full weight until the bone snapped. He never screamed, though. Only an annoying grin plastered on his face with bloody teeth.

He cackled once again. That was a good show. A daring chase throughout his home territory, real riveting! He saw how the shadows crept in on the man, who stared at his face unknowingly.

His grin stretched farther. Oh, he had the urge to laugh right again! But, he couldn't without it becoming repetitive-

*Snap!*

A branch cracked in the forest. The shadows scurried away as the hunter jerked violently, seemingly out of whatever trance he was in.

The grinning man quickly looked to the sound. A deer stood tall bathed in moonlight. Staring at the duo with blackened eyes. His eyes widened.

The man had barely any time to react before cold metal collided with his temple, pushing his head back into the cold, smooth mud.

*BANG*

Another strike of lightning, the thunder echoing through the alleyway. It was farther away this time. The rain had let up a bit since he had been, well, reminiscing.

His breathing was heavy, body now rigid from the rain, mostly. He stared at the downpore; wondering. 'I... died.'

He closed his eyes once again, the notion absurd enough to be featured on one of those radionovelas he'd heard about.

'Beloved radio host, actually the Bayou Butcher of New Orleans, killed in bayou where he buried his victims!' He could imagine. He huffed out a shallow laugh.

The acid rain had let up almost entirely, leaving the slight smell in the air after a downpour. He looked out to the street again, seeing all the boarded up doors and windows and cracks on the buildings. His stomach twisted.

He huffed before standing up once again and walking back out onto the street. He smoothly jumped over any overturned concrete or piece of rubbish in his way, as he went in a random direction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hotel had been going a bit slower than Charlie would have liked. A week after that incident on 666 News and not even one sinner had come asking for more details!

She even got Husk to help remodel the hotel a bit. Even if there was more green and purple than she would've liked in certain rooms.

Angel complained about the noise, saying he needed his beauty rest in order to keep the bucks flowing in. That caused Husk to mutter something she couldn't hear, and all of a sudden, she had to tear the two away from each other before furniture went flying.

They stayed away from each other the rest of the remodeling process.

Nifty also helped in the past week! Just, eh, in her own way. She was always skittering around the halls, stabbing the carpet after any remaining bugs. There was never any lasting damage to the floor, though, and all the dust and cobwebs were gone!

Now, besides remodeling, Charlie made many different posters for the hotel down in the lobby, just to stick all around Pentagram City and get the word out.

She obviously gave her drawing expertise to the design, but she almost always forgot to put the actual contact information, focused on the happy picture. So, she asked for help from Alastor, and he agreed! He never left the front desk, though; drawing and sketching on the bar counter.

However, he always forgot to put her phone number on there and kept writing 'Hazbin Hotel' instead of Happy Hotel. Whenever she asked, he just said, "I would never endorse those frivilous, jumbled picture cards! Anywho, the name is for your branding! No sinner with self-respect would go to any establishment called the 'Happy Hotel'. The other name fits the image of this city much better!"

She never really got what he meant by that. This was a place to help sinners gain happiness and reform from their sins to stop the extermination! But, she didn't change any posters out of politeness.

Vaggie was annoyed at her decision and started to grimace at the front desk whenever she passed through the lobby. She told Charlie that he was mocking them, but Charlie saw the effort Alastor put in to color and draw each poster for her.

So, when all of them were done, she called everyone to come to the lobby lounge for an important discussion.

"Ok! So, the hotel has been up for a bit, and no one seems to have noticed our hotel yet." Charlie starts, matter-of-factly to the group of people in the lobby.

Angel snickered at his perch on the love seat, with Husk giving a skeptical expression towards Charlie on the armchair.

Vaggie clenched her fists, narrowing her eyes beside Charlie, who seemed undisturbed by the feedback. "Now, I have made pairs to go out and put up posters up in the streets for the hotel. I will also be counting this as a bonding activity!"

Charlie poofed up some flashcards from a wave of her hand. "I'll list the pairs, and then each pair can go grab a stack to stick onto windows, walls, or electric poles." Charlie stated. "And only those things." Vaggie then emphasized.

A scoff from Angel is all they got in response.

"Ok, so the pairs start with me and Nifty, Husk and Vaggie, and lastly, Angel and Alastor." She read flipping through the index cards.

No groans sounded, so Charlie took that as a win, but Alastor did speak up. "Charlie dear, I'm afraid that at least one of us should stay at the hotel. To make sure no sinner tries anything while we're away."

"Oh, uh, that's a good point..." Charlie seems to think it over. Vaggie started to open her mouth, but Alastor cut her off.

"Well my dear, I think the best course for us is to leave the staff out of this little excursion." He casually suggested, eyes intently focusing on the glass he was cleaning.

"That does make sense... ok, that means that only two pairs will go out to put up fliers today. Vaggie and Husk can go to the west side, and I am now with Angel in the east side since Al and Nifty will stay at the hotel. Any objections?" Charlie asks.

No one put up any major fuss about the pairings, mainly waiting for Charlie to continue. Charlie seemed pleased with the results.

"Ok then! Let's go out and put up some posters, people!"

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