Archive of Our Own ^beta

“There's a note underneath your front door 
That I wrote 20 years ago 
Yellow paper and a faded picture 
And a secret in an envelope 
 

There's no reasons, no excuses 
There's no second-hand alibis 
Just some black ink on some blue lines 
And a shadow you won't recognize” 

20 Years – The Civil Wars  

Alastor awoke with the haze of the morning sun creeping through her window. For some reason, the fabric blackout curtains betrayed her; leaving bits of it cracked open for the sun to sneak its way into her bedroom. She had worked another long shift at the jazz bar. It seemed more and more patrons were coming to see the infamous Radio Songstress singing live. Her voice called the people off the New Orleans streets and into the small, basement club.   

Her boss was happy with the amount of money that was coming in, but, for Alastor, it was simply another night of music – her one and only love. She stretched, still needing much more sleep before the next show that night. Desperate to force her body back into slumber, she walked through her small cabin within the bayou until she reached its kitchen. She made herself some tea – much to her distaste, but she had learned it was the only thing that soothed her mind from remaining awake – and reached out for her stationery at the table.   

Journaling had been a long relief for her. Since starting her secondary activities, she needed an outlet that would allow her to confess to her crimes without getting caught. Thanks to her voodoo practices, she would write a letter and then burn it with sage to rid her conscious of any guilt.   

Naturally, she knew that it wasn’t going to forgive any sins she was committing, but the practice allowed her to feel some relief and less guilt before the next victim. However, in recent weeks, her letters were changing. Something had come over Alastor. Normally her charming self was pleased with the attention of the public. When they sang her praises for the music she conjured, she was more than happy to be showered by their words and gestures. However, the words were becoming meaningless as once the lights were off and the long walk back to her home would remind her – she was all alone.   

Alastor wasn’t one to love the company of others. The few times a man approached her for a date, she was either not interested or found it to be an undesirable date. Made worse when not once – not a single moment in her life – did she ever feel arousal. There was nothing behind a kiss. An emptiness at the sight of a naked body. No one ever triggered her to feel – anything.   

Yet the guilt of loneliness struck her every day during her long walk home.   

She took a spare pen and wrapped her long, brown, curly hair into a bun and used the pen to hold it in place. Looking at the paper, she realized she’d forgotten her glasses and went back to the room to get them. Once she returned, she placed them at the edge of her nose and began her note.   

Oh – to be so lonely yet crave no other. What is it about my mind that desperately seeks the attention of someone, yet my heart tells me there is nothing they can give me. The affections of another still do not intrigue me, but the lack of companionship is dreadful against my shattering heart. Is there anyone that would willingly want to be with someone such as me? To ask for so much but have no want to give anything back. I don’t want to be touched. I don’t want to be kissed. All I want is someone.   

She took her note, finished sipping her tea, and made her way to the shrine at the end of the living room. Alastor wasn’t a true believer in many things. Even though her own practice of voodoo was more of a habit and a way to ease her mind, she’d always been curious if creatures such as demons were real. Which is why, pinned against the wall above a nightstand, was a doll dressed like the devil. She figured if her acts were going to continue being so bloody, might as well make a small shrine for the number one demon himself.   

She grabbed a matchstick, lit it, and set the note in a black stone bowl. She covered it with sage and cinnamon before dropping the match and allowing it to burn away. Once done, her confession was once again kept between her and the devil.   

#  

Alastor woke up a few hours before it was time to head back to the club. At least tonight would be her final night before having a few days off. She’s missed sitting on her porch, basking in the sun with the humidity causing her skin to sweat while she would read a book. It's not like she had any plans with anyone.   

After a quick bath, she put on her tightly fit pinstriped red dress. The outfit touched every curve of her body, proudly showing off her wide hips and rear while sinching her waist. With both her hands, she adjusted her bust while walking back to the kitchen for a meal. That was until something caught her attention. Off the corner of her eye, sitting within the black bowl at her shrine was a perfectly folded piece of paper.   

Her mind scattered with various thoughts, trying to remember if she had or hadn’t burned it. She was certain she had, so how did that paper get there? Alastor walked over, took the note, and opened it. “This isn’t my handwriting,” she said to herself. The scribbles almost appeared childlike, yet there was a flick at the end of each letter that also spoke of elegance. Alastor checked around the house to make sure there wasn’t something missing, but everything appeared normal.   

Carefully, she finally read the note:   

I understand this feeling far too well. I was once in love – for a long time and very passionately – but it faded over time. Now he’s off somewhere along with our daughter. That bastard took her away from me and I am so desperate for her hugs.    

I crave her affection.    

There was no signature, and plenty left unanswered, but Alastor read the note time and time again, feeling sympathy for whoever wrote it. Her eyes wandered back to the bowl – could it be that someone from the great beyond answered back? How foolish of her to think such a thing. There was no way – right...  

To make sure, she grabbed her stationary and wrote another letter:   

It seems we have something in common. This dread of loneliness and a helplessness to cure it. While I cannot relate to having a lost love and, even worse, a child for which you are disconnected, I can express my own feelings toward the loss of someone dear.    

Many years ago, my mother passed away. I miss her dearly every day and, since losing her, I have felt so utterly alone. Who knows how I can cure myself of this burden, but know at least, I share your sentiment with the deepest of my sympathy.   

She followed through by taking the same steps as before. Once the fire was gone, she moved on to making a meal and leaving for work. All night she wondered if her letter would once again be answered.   

#  

When she returned from work nearing the sunrise, she yawned into her hand and removed her glasses to rub her eyes. In the blur, she saw the familiar color of her stationary paper and put the glasses back on to see a fresh note sitting in the bowl. She ran to it, far more excited than she cared to admit.   

She snatched the paper and found the same handwriting across it:   

That was rather kind of you to return the letter. Honestly, I have been reading your letters for so long, I do not know why I decided to reply this time. Perhaps it was your mention of loneliness. I have been feeling so alone lately that I figured I’d let you know you are actually not alone in those feelings.    

Am I rambling? In written word?   

Perhaps it may be too forward of me to say, but your letters have been rather entertaining over the years. A murderer confessing the details of their actions and then sending them to a demon. Rather amusing of you. Did you even know you were sending them to a demon? If not – surprise!   

I hope this does not frighten you. I swear I mean you no harm. I am not the sort of demon that deals with souls. I find the practice rather boring. But – I must admit – I could use someone to talk to and if you’re willing, may you reply again?   

The letter ended with a question Alastor would easily answer. Somehow, she wasn’t scared. It excited her to see that this whole time someone was listening and wasn’t afraid of her. Even more so, they weren’t going to turn her into the authorities. Why would a demon bother with human matters?   

Alastor removed her dress and walked around in her lingerie. Her stockings were held at the top of her thighs with a garter and her underdress was loose and silky. She sat down at her table, adjusted her glasses, and began to write:   

A demon? I guess that means there is a Hell? I wasn’t one to believe in much. For the most part, I was practicing my voodoo as my mother had taught me. A habit since childhood and a way to reconnect with her in my own silly way. To think, I accidentally summoned a demon or more like accidentally kept sending you mail.    

I am pleased to hear the details of my murders do not frighten you. Of course, I guess I should expect that with you being a demon and all. I haven’t done a killing in a while since these feelings have started plaguing me. If I may ask, how are you dealing with your heartache? While my loneliness cannot compare to what you are going through, I imagine it's something worth listening to.    

As you said... I can’t feel lonely if you are listening.    

She smiled, taking the note to the bowl and following the steps once more. Once it extinguished, she glared at the bowl wondering how exactly how the exchange of the letters worked. If she stayed awake, would she see the demon delivering it? For now, Alastor decided it was time for sleep. One day she would try and figure it out, but for now, she required slumber.   

#  

The following morning Alastor jumped to her feet, sprinted for the kitchen, and, like a child on Christmas morning, beamed at the note awaiting her. She skipped breakfast and opened the letter while walking around her kitchen to make coffee: 

It's difficult to discuss heartache, especially about someone I have been in love with since humans walked on Earth. There is agony that words cannot properly describe, but the nothingness of my existence feels more earned now than ever before. I have found myself wallowing in my room, sitting on my bed, weeping as the red sky falls in and out of darkness. If there was a possible way to end it all, I would, but I must move on. For Charlie. For the hope that one day I can see my daughter again.    

It's selfish to think I deserve an ounce of their attention. I admit to doing wrong. I focused too much on my creations and not enough on them, but I will never fully comprehend why he had to completely remove my daughter.    

Is this the rightful punishment for my crimes?    

Who’s to say.    

I hope this note is not too depressing. Here... an image of a rubber duck to help cheer up this letter.   

Off the corner of the paper was a small pencil sketch of a rubber duck. It was amusing, somehow charming. Worst, it caused Alastor’s heart to flutter. She finished making her coffee, holding the note against her chest. Reading it again and again, she wondered what exactly she could ask. Perhaps a name.   

She continued with her mundane day, running errands, hunting a deer for dinner, and making herself a long salt bath to ward the spirits from entering her soul. Something about knowing demons is real made her voodoo practices even more important. They were summoning one with the letters.   

Before bed, she took her stationary and wrote back:   

While I am no medical doctor, it sounds like you are going through a bout of depression. After my mother passed, I was depressed for months. At one point, I even considered taking my own life, but then I remembered my love for music. I returned to the jazz club my mom worked at, picked up some shifts, and worked my way to the lead singer. I found my reason to live.    

Well – add the murders. I must admit they bring me a thrill that even music cannot match. What beautiful symphony comes from the screams of those who cause harm to others. They deserve it. All of them... speaking of which, would that mean they come to Hell? You have read my letters. Have you seen any of them?   

Lastly, if you don’t mind me asking. What is your name? I am not certain my previous letters mentioned it, but I am Alastor Hartfelt.    

Writing her name somehow made it all the more personal. The demon likely knew. Who knew how watching demons worked, but by giving away her name, Alastor felt like a line had been crossed. That something new was forming.   

She dropped the letter in the bowl, this time using nutmeg instead of cinnamon. Once it was done, she decided to take her book outside, reading underneath the lantern and amongst the sounds of the crickets and the lapping of the swamp water.   

Alastor had lost track of time, but when she returned to get a glass of water from her kitchen, there was a reply: 

Morningstar... simply call me Morningstar.   

And that was it – but that was all Alastor needed to know.   

#  

Weeks had passed and Alastor continued to exchange letters with Morningstar. She had learned the demon was not one to interact with humans often, but some had successfully summoned her. Unfortunately, when Alastor asked exactly how they had done it, Morningstar refused to provide a response:   

You don’t want to summon me – I am too much work.   

She would reply. Still, the curiousness would gnaw at Alastor bit by bit. With each letter, a trail of her loneliness would wither into the air, flying away with the spring breeze and into the oceans near the coast, but with it, there was a need to learn more about her demon. To see her face. To look into her eyes and tell her what had been weighing in her heart:   

This loneliness is bearable because of you .   

She finally confessed. Alastor nearly threw away the paper the second she wrote it, but she pushed herself forward. She required herself to say it without hesitation – to bear witness that Alastor Hartfelt, The Radio Killer, was learning to find happiness outside of the blood and gore of a person's decapitated body.   

Once the letter was sent, she sat at the edge of her chair, waiting. Nothing happened for hours. A lingering silence of her anticipation, but she knew better than to expect it to simply appear. She always had to walk away. Leave in some way before the letter is delivered. Another book, she figured, and drowned herself in the stories of lost children in paradise.   

When she returned from the porch, a letter awaited her once again. She picked it up but regretted everything she had said without opening it to see the response. Alastor was a fool. No way would a demon want anything to do with a human. She carefully opened it, her hand shaking until finally, her eyes widened with the response:   

And if I were to say the same? What then?   

Alastor fell to her seat. Her hands coiled into the edge of her mangled curls, covering the embarrassment of her face. Those simple words caused her to panic. This had to be a trick of some kind. She couldn’t risk her existence falling for a demon’s tricks. Yet she didn’t want to dismiss it. Her discontent with life was unbearable and the letters were her only reason to keep living.   

The “What then?” kept repeating in her mind. What was she to say? There was no way to cure loneliness with a creature that didn’t live in the same plain of existence as her. Desperately needing this conversation to keep going, she wrote her next letter and set it ablaze as quickly as she could. Her hand wrote the words without much thought, not wanting to hesitate or second guess her response.   

I wish to meet you – please.    

Her eyes remained glued to the bowl, waiting and waiting for her response. When an hour passed, she figured it was best to leave like usual, but much to her disappointment, when she returned hours later, there was still no reply.   

Alastor fell to her bed that night, mind rattling with endless regrets and discontentment. She was a fool to think Morningstar saw anything between them as more than a silly, ignorant human falling for their usual charm. It took some time, but eventually, her body succumbed to slumber and she woke up the next morning with little idea of how late it had become.   

When she walked to the kitchen, her eyes naturally wandered to the bowl, where a new letter awaited. She snatched it, opening it while falling to her chair.   

My concern isn’t that I don’t wish to meet you. In fact, these last few weeks have left me nearly craving putting a face to the letters I read; however, as I have said, I do not wish for you to summon me. There are too many steps and far too many risks that I am not comfortable with allowing you to try. Please be patient.    

I will come to you once it's time.    

Alastor, mouth agape, tried to register it all. Without saying it, there was a mutual understanding of wanting to be in the same room. How do demons even look? Would her human eyes be able to stand a creature not from this world?   

In a panic, Alastor sat back down at her table, but suddenly the words were not coming to her. What was she to do? Beg for it to happen sooner or try and convince Morningstar to arrive as soon as possible? What even was this? Alastor couldn’t comprehend it – the longing growing in her chest. This want – no, need. She’d never felt it before.   

It took her all night to finally figure out a response. Something deep and from the heart without giving too much away.   

I look forward to that day.   

#  

The weeks continued on and Alastor’s heart was feeling heavier than normal. Soaking in the swamp water, feeling the crisp and humid summer sun against her skin was refreshing after another night of killing. To a degree, the killings were reducing, finding the task a bit boring. What was there to say after fifty-eight killings?   

However, the letters between her and Morningstar were only getting longer, more detailed, and personal. Alastor wanted to know everything about Morningstar. How did she look? Apparently blonde with pale skin. Mentions of bright pink cheeks and a lack of human ears and nose... slender, yet broad-shouldered and busty. What her role was in hell? Some kind of high-ranking demon, but she refused to reveal any specific details. Updates on her daughter. Her ex-husband has finally answered his calls and is working on a way for Morningstar to see her daughter again.   

Her dating status? Painfully single.   

The last fact is what kept Alastor up at night. Her chest beat rapidly, almost protruding out and punching the edge of her skin. This was a demon – a demon. What exactly was Alastor thinking that she could grow feelings for someone such as this? That there was any hope of anything between them? Alastor was stuck on Earth and only the lord knew the workings of Heaven and Hell.   

Alastor was positive she would end up in Hell. After so many kills and the enjoyment of their blood, she must have a one-way ticket directly down. However, how would she find Morningstar? Would they even be in the same location?   

Were there layers to hell like Dante’s Inferno ?  

Yes... there are layers, actually. Dante was a rather interesting man. He wanted to learn so much about Hell and twisted some of the details within his story, but many parts are factual. I live in the Pride District, which is where the sinners end up. We don’t place them in the layer of their most common sins... all sins, in a sense, come from a person’s pride, so they end up here.    

Morningstar was willing to share anything that Alastor wanted to know. If the songstress had a question, the demon would provide an answer... that is except for two questions.   

Stop asking me, Alastor. I will not provide you information about summoning me. Please, I beg you to be patient. I will come to see you once I am ready – once the time is right.    

Also – yes. I do desire it. To see you...    

But that wasn’t exactly what Alastor had asked. She wanted to know if Morningstar longed for her – begged in her prayers for them to be close, tender, and intimate. Alastor’s emotions were weighing heavily. They were tying her down to the ground like chains on a prisoner. She wanted to be near Morningstar. Every human on Earth was boring when compared to the liveliness of Morningstar. This sparkle that radiated out of her letters and this craving...  

A craving worse than Alastor’s hunger for blood.   

She continued to float in the water, wondering if it would be best to end it all. Alastor was destined for Hell; that she had no worries about. It had to be the case after all the murders. Life was becoming dull and the eagerness to be near Morningstar was grueling. She dipped her head into the swampy water, allowing the murkiness to engulf her. Where was her life to lead her – who was she meant to devote her affections toward if not the only creature in existence that appeared to matter.?   

Alastor resurfaced, breathing the thick air and accepting the sunlight once again. To consider taking her own life was a rather dramatic turn of events and she hesitated only because she knew Morningstar would likely never speak to her again if she followed through.   

She exited the swamp, dried herself with a towel, and walked back to her home. The bowl was empty as Alastor was struggling to respond to the demon after the last letter.   

What was there to say other than a full confession of her devotion?  

Alastor decided to finish her day off with a long warm bath. She took her time to enjoy the lavender soaps and a book as her body soaked in the tub. Once she was finished, she entered her kitchen for a cup of water and was surprised to find a note waiting for her. Morningstar had never sent a letter without first getting a reply. The serial killer took the note and opened it, hair still dripping off her curls and soaking into her nightgown:  

I must admit something. It has been tugging against my heart and I feel our letters have reached a point where I must be honest. While I am still struggling with my divorce and I still wish to prioritize reconnecting with my daughter, I can no longer keep going without stating my intentions with you.    

I have grown fond of you.    

No... more than fond. Anytime I get another letter, I run to it. Holding it in my hands is like gasping for a held breath, desperately seeking you to resuscitate me. I am enamored by your every word and, even though I have never seen you or know how you look, I can sense your beauty through your words.    

However, even with all of this said, it would not be appropriate to ask much of you. I am not asking you to speed up the process of your afterlife nor am I asking you to come find me. I only wish to express my sentiments toward you and hope that you have the same for me.    

I’ve read the hints, but with my clouded judgment, I must admit I am unsure if you mean them platonically or romantically. So – I am here to make myself clear and to request your reply. If this steps a line for which you are not comfortable, I shall bother you no more.    

I am feeling romantically bonded to you. As if your words came right at the moment, I was going to give up on everything. At this point, all I can add is that I hope I did not misread this relationship and that you will forgive me if I am being zealous.    

Alastor fell back against the kitchen counter. Her hand clenched against her chest, stomach-churning at the million thoughts running through her mind. Morningstar – her sweet demon Morningstar – felt romantically for her and those words were a cacophony of melodies dancing around her.  

What was she supposed to do? She wanted so desperately to summon Morningstar, hold her. See her face and kiss it… kiss it? That was never a thought Alastor had ever had. This demon was capturing the very person Alastor was deep inside, an affectionate, desirable, and passionate person whose only want was to spoil another with her hugs, her tenderness – her everything.  

She ran to her drawer, pulling out the paper and pen to write her response. In her desperation, she didn’t bother to sit, bending down to the table:  

Morningstar, it is with the deepest place of my heart I must tell you I feel the same. These letters have been like my bloodline. You’ve kept me going. Kept me living and less alone. While I wish to see you, I will not do anything to harm myself or to seek you sooner than my life’s planned destination.    

But — please — I am begging. Come see me.    

I’ve never felt so attracted to someone before. I wish to hold you. Smother you with my kisses. Look longingly into your eyes and never consider looking away.   

Morningstar, I   

She stopped. Is that what this was? It had to be. It was new for Alastor, to need someone like water in a desert. Would it be right to say it? To confess it?   

Morningstar, I love you.   

She took the note and once again burned it in her bowl. With a deep breath, she watched the bowl, wishing a reply would somehow appear, but as usual, nothing yet.   

With a sigh, she decided to leave for the market. That should be enough time. That was plenty to…  

But she stopped when suddenly the devil doll pinned to the wall started to wiggle. It’s arms moved up, pulling the pin off the wall and jumping down to the table. Alastor watched in astonishment. The little doll looked up to her and waved. Without thought, Alastor waved back. The doll jumped off the table and climbed to the kitchen counter to open the drawer, taking a paper and pen. Somehow the little doll had amazing balance and coordination, taking everything and writing a reply back. Alastor slowly walked closer to look over at the doll. When it was done, it pointed to the note, looking as if smiling even though it was impossible.  

With a fluttering heart, she read the reply:  

I love you, Alastor.   

#  

For months, Alastor and Morningstar continued to write to each other, but now with the added bonus of the doll's movements:  

I can control the doll to do things for me. I tried to make it speak and listen, but for some reason, it won’t connect. Still, I can see you… you’re beautiful.    

Alastor blushed and replied:  

I wish I could see you. What if you’re some creature with four heads and six arms? I’ll have to figure out how that works. Be honest, how do demons look?    

The doll proceeded to write her reply: 

Depends. Sinners look like a mix of an animal and a human sometimes, although most of the time like their animal form. Hellborns it depends on who they are like imps, hellhounds, etc… as for me, well, I have a unique look. For reasons…   

Alastor wondered, but she remembered the different looks mentioned previously and she figured Morningstar looked a little more human than most:  

Can you draw me an image? Something close so I can know?   

The doll nodded its head and started sketching out a rough drawing. There was long flowing hair, a flat face, and no ears, bright pink circular cheeks, and sharp teeth. She added a note underneath it:   

Please do not fear the teeth. Most of us in Hell have sharp teeth. I hope that doesn’t scare you.    

Alastor had to laugh to himself. What would it matter? She was so in love that Morningstar could have a tail and it would do little to make her not long for her. Plus, based on what Alastor had started learning, she would likely take on a demonic form as a sinner. Her own appearance was likely to change, so who was she to judge the appearance of Morningstar now when her own looks were to likely come close and match. Alastor replied:  

Whatever you look like, I will find attractive. I have come to learn through our conversations that I am attracted to others when I feel connected to them. I have never had anyone feel so worthy of my attention. Someone who can grasp deeper concepts of myself in a way beyond humanity. But you – my sweet demon – you are everything to me and there is nothing that can make me ever regret loving you.    

The doll read over the message and then looked up at Alastor. It hugged itself, providing Morningstar's response without writing it down. Alastor smiled. Her heart rested within her hands as she tapped the top of the doll's head. This was too cute, anytime they sat together like this and talked; well, the closest thing they could get to talking.   

Then the doll started writing another message. Alastor waited patiently, sipping her coffee until it was finished. Her mouth opened, her breath escaping her, and her eyes widened:   

What are you doing on Halloween?   

She quickly took the pen from the doll and wrote a response:   

I was going to work, but I can request the day off... does this mean?   

The doll took the pen and this time Alastor read every word carefully as it wrote:   

Please do... Halloween is the one day of the year demons and hellborns can come to Earth. This is my only chance all year without being summoned. I wish to spend the night with you.   

I MEAN LIKE TOGETHER NOT – Please tell me you understand.    

Alastor laughed, wanting so desperately to hold her. She wondered how it would go. What would be possible? Then the doll continued:   

However, I believe it is time I make one small confession that I have been holding back. Something I feel will make a difference in you wanting to meet me, but now that it's soon, I can no longer hide it from you.    

Yes, my name is Morningstar. That is my last name and I am surprised you never once questioned it. My name is in many biblical lores and stories – I am rather well known. However, I have learned over time that many of the teachings are false and indicate me to be a male, when, in fact, I am a female.    

My full name is Lucifer Morningstar. I am the devil – the shamed fallen angel.    

I am so sorry for lying to you this whole time. If you wish to end things, I can understand. It must be so worrisome now knowing you have fallen in love with the devil. It's a lot to take in, but please do not allow this to change anything I have said. I do still love you. I do still wish to be with you – but I am who I am and I cannot change that.    

Alastor lifted the note, walking away from the doll. It intently watched her read it again and again, trying to desperately understand the confession on the paper. Alastor wondered if it had changed anything. Was loving the devil so bad? Especially when the devil had presented such beauty? Such love and devotion?   

She looked back at the doll and gave it one final thought.   

Hastily, she returned to a blank piece of paper and wrote her response:   

I don’t care. Please – come to me.   

#  

Halloween – the day had been haunting Alastor’s mind every second of her existence since that letter. They had continued chatting, almost avoiding the topic altogether. Alastor wasn’t sure if she was more nervous not having spoken about it or that at any moment, Lucifer would be at her door.   

Lucifer...   

Saying her actual name was like a dream. It had been over a month since knowing and thought that behind that little devil doll was the actual devil herself. That she had somehow captivated the attention of one of the most riveting creatures of existence and that she loved her.   

That the devil loved her in return.   

Needing to look her best, Alastor bought a new form-fitted red dress, making sure her breasts were plump and presentable, her curves showing off every inch of her body, and her legs displaying the strength of her calves. She had made her hair curly and volumized, her makeup clean, but splashed with red lipstick.   

If this didn’t work, what would? Did any of this even matter to someone like Lucifer? Fuck ... she was overthinking her plans. Were the candles too much? Would she even eat the cookies she made from her mother’s old recipe book?   

No – Lucifer mentioned she loved sweets. The cookies should at least work.   

Then there was a knock on her door. She flinched, not certain if to answer it. The sun was setting and Lucifer said the evening of Halloween. Maybe it was someone else? Or... She shook her head, forcing herself to the door and ready to answer it. As her hands touched the knob, she took a deep breath and attempted to steady her heart. One last time she looked to her shrine. The doll was still pinned to the wall and not moving.   

Like a sweet song sung by the morning birds, Alastor opened the door and found her devil looking up at her. The nerves took over, capturing the concept of words and leaving her empty. She was certain her face was the same color as her dress, the heat covering her whole body. Finally, she remembered how to speak, but regretted her words after immediately saying them.   

“I didn’t think you would be that short.”   

Lucifer scowled and jokingly turned around. “This was a bad idea.”   

“No! Please! I am so sorry, I’m shocked is all. You’re -- you’re really here?”   

Lucifer slowly pivoted, blonde hair moving around like wind underneath her large top hat coiled with a snake, apple, and crown. “Yes. And you are there?”   

“I am...”   

They remained silent for a moment, lingering their stares and matching their blush, except Lucifer's glimmered angelic gold.   

“You’re beautiful,” finally said Alastor.   

“Not so bad yourself. I didn’t expect this look. You normally appeared more casual when we spoke.”   

“I -- I wanted to look nice for you.” She twirled her finger into one of her curls.   

“It worked.” Lucifer smiled widely, showing off her sharp teeth.   

Alastor realized then, she truly didn't mind. “Come on, step in.” She moved to give Lucifer space.   

The devil slowly walked in and looked around. “It's small but adorable. I can see why you like to live here. Close enough to the city but deep enough away, there is complete silence. Hell is so busy, that I don’t think I remember what silence felt like – well, in a city at least. My castle was rather silent.”   

“Castle?” Alastor closed the door behind them, locking it and approaching. “You never mentioned a castle.”   

Lucifer chuckled nervously, hand scratching the back of her head. “Yes, well... I was trying to hide the whole devil thing, so I avoided the castle thing. Queen of Hell is a rather obvious indicator of my identity.” She pointed to her crown. “Are -- are you sure you’re not mad with me? For lying?”   

“No... I understand. It's a pretty big deal for the devil to be sending love letters to a human. Had it been any earlier, I wouldn’t have believed a single word you said, but – I don’t know. There is something to be said about the information we exchanged. I don’t believe any of this is a trick.”   

Lucifer sighed. “It's not. I promise.”   

“Good... may I take your hat and coat.” She bent at the waist, smiling sweetly, and extending her hands to take the items. Once she removed her coat, Alastor got a good look at Lucifer’s attire. “You really do like the circus, huh?” she mentioned after seeing the bright pink vest, tightly fit white pants, and knee-high boots.   

“I do. You remembered. I mentioned that so long ago.”   

“I don’t forget much. Especially, as I have come to learn when it is about you. Please, get comfortable. I will get us some wine and snacks and you can sit...” But her lips were captured the second she placed down Lucifer’s coat and hat in the coat closet.   

Lucifer had pounced her, lips barreling against Alastor’s that they clanked upon impact. It had hurt slightly, but registering the tenderness made it not matter. Alastor’s hands eventually found Lucifer’s waist, bending down to meet her height and slightly deepen the kiss. By far it was not Alastor’s first kiss, but it felt like it. As if the concept of kissing meant nothing until that very moment.   

Her fingers trailed down to Lucifer’s lower back, as Lucifer hugged over Alastor’s shoulders and pulled her in closer by the neck. It was heated, a pleasure far beyond the scope of Alastor’s comprehension. When they pulled away, the golden tint on Lucifer’s face gave away her own longing – a yearning of months they both shared.   

“Sorry,” Lucifer whispered, still holding Alastor tightly. “I waited long enough and got selfish.”   

“It’s fine... I’m glad you did.” Alastor’s warm smile radiated in the room, almost like the sun had returned in the early evening. “Do you want to continue or...”   

“Both,” Lucifer giggled. “Go get the wine. I think I broke the tension plenty.”   

“Glad you did.” Alastor stole one quick kiss before peeling herself away from Lucifer. She went to the kitchen, taking a moment to place her hand over her mouth and refocus from her beating heart. This was worth it all – This was how it felt to actually be in love .   

She gathered the things and went back to her living room. Lucifer was sitting quietly and once Alastor sat beside her, the devil draped herself against Alastor’s arm. It took everything in Alastor to remain composed. “Lucifer... you’re a rather touchy creature.”   

Lucifer’s face panicked. “Ah -- do you not like it? I can stop.”   

“No! No, I am surprised. I figured you’d want to be a bit slower. More conversational.”   

“We’ve talked plenty. I only have tonight until midnight, then I pop back to Hell. I didn’t want to waste it not having my arms around you.” She bashfully looked away.   

Alastor poured them both some wine. “Fair enough, but please... I am yours for the evening.” She held out her arm and wrapped it around Lucifer’s shoulder. “You can take off your boots. Get comfortable.”   

“Oh -- um... okay.” She removed herself for a moment to take off each boot, revealing goat-like hooves and light fur along her feet and ankle.   

Alastor looked over at the nervous Lucifer, returning to their previous position. “They are cute.”   

“You don’t find them appalling?”   

“Why would I? They are a part of you, which means, by extension, I love them.”   

Lucifer smiled and gave Alastor another kiss before taking her glass. “You really are something else, Alastor. I wasn’t expecting a human to not see me and tremble. The few who have summoned me still fear me.”   

“Oh, I very much fear you.”   

Lucifer’s throat hitched. “Wh-what?”  

“I fear how madly in love I am with you. How nothing about you can turn me away and that I hope you don’t feel too lonely awaiting my demise.”   

Lucifer’s smile softened, golden face shimmering against the low dim lights and the candle flames around the room. She sipped her wine and leaned her head on Alastor’s shoulder. “I know it may seem odd, but I almost didn’t believe you were real. A human wanting to love a demon... I mean, I have seen plenty of demon summoning and some of them connecting, but – I don’t know – I never figured I would be one.”   

“Isn’t their lore that you are going around stealing the virginity of the innocent to force them to sin?”   

Lucifer rolled her eyes. “All lies! I was a committed spouse to my husband. I would never have done something like that while we were together. Or even during our bouts of separation! I very much prefer consent and hellborns.”   

“But you came to me?” Alastor pulled Lucifer closer, crossing her arm to place on Lucifer’s knee.   

“You were different... and came at the right time.”   

Alastor planted a kiss on the top of Lucifer’s hair. “I’m glad it worked out.”   

“I am too...” They grew silent, but there wasn’t an air of awkwardness. They were comfortable, warm, and entranced. This was what Alastor’s mother had told her about – to find someone who would care for her. To love and cherish. To have it all returned with earnestness and devotion.   

Their fingers danced in each other’s palms, soothing the other’s skin and doting over the other’s presence. The wine nearly gone and the snack left in crumbles, the two were delighted in their silence and held on to the other.   

“Tell me about your daughter,” asked Alastor. “I never asked much about her.”   

“Oh! Yes!” Lucifer waved her hand and appeared in a small picture. “This is Charlie. My beloved little doll. Look at her! She’s so amazing, smart, kind, generous, a wonderful princess...” The shimmering in Lucifer’s eyes praising her daughter was heartwarming. It only caused Alastor to fall even more in love.   

“I hope I can meet her one day.”   

“Yes... I would love that.” Lucifer looked up to her, losing herself in Alastor’s deep brown eyes. “I look forward to the day you come to Hell. Please do not take too long to find me once you do.”   

“I promise you will be the first person I look for.” She leaned down, stealing another kiss. It started softly, tasting every inch of her soft lips. Alastor took a nibble, tugging it back lightly. There was a light moan that escaped Lucifer and Alastor was shocked that – for once in her life – it made her feel something desirable. They returned to kissing, slipping in their tongues and hands exploring each other. It was everything Alastor had been promised about attraction. Had been told about the invigorating sensations of being kissed and touched.   

With a heated breath, Lucifer pulled back for a moment and gazed dizzyingly at Alastor. “I love you so much Alastor... I am going to miss you until next Halloween.”   

“I will be here waiting. For now, we have our letters and you have my heart.”   

The devil smiled like a smitten teenager. She giggled and pressed herself closer to Alastor. “And then one day you will be in Hell with me.”   

“When that day comes, I am all yours.”   

They leaned in and kissed again, enjoying each other’s taste until Lucifer needed to leave at midnight. When Alastor found herself in bed alone, a blush refusing to dissipate for the evening, she was hopeful that Halloween would come quick – however, when Lucifer appeared the following year, nervous about why Alastor’s letters had stopped three months before – the serial killer was gone without a trace.   

#  

It had been nearly twenty years since the last time Lucifer had spoken with Alastor. She had attempted to move on, having her usual flings and disappointing dates, but nothing seemed to fulfill the void missing from her long-lost love. Lucifer had tried to locate Alastor in Hell, curious if the killer had died and arrived, but there were no signs. The devil wallowed in the loss, wishing they had more time and almost regretting not allowing her to be summoned. Perhaps it was meant to be a moment – a slip of time to help Lucifer move on from her marriage and find a sense of hope.   

Her phone rang and a joy overtook her. “Char-Char! What a surprise?!”   

“Hey Mom – can I ask you a big favor? Come over to the hotel. I want to show you my progress and get some feedback on a few things before speaking with Heaven. Plus, I finally located a hotel facilitator and I’d love for you to meet her.”   

“Of course! Anything for you. Be there soon.” They hung up and Lucifer made herself regally presentable before popping into the front steps of the hotel. It was still banged up, but the work to improve it was present. He opened the door and Charlie ran over with her girlfriend Vaggie not far behind. They hugged and Charlie escorted Lucifer in.   

“Okay -- so let me introduce you to everyone...” One by one, Lucifer met the residents and workers of the hotel. The devil was charming and pleasant, not wanting to be rude to the sinners that Charlie was growing fond of. “And this is my new hotel facilitator... Alastor.”   

Alastor?   

The name was like a bright light renewing her senses. The sinner turned around; hair bright reddish pink with undertones of black and adorned with deer ears and antlers. She sported a monocle, a wide yellowish toothy smile, and wearing a red striped coat dress   

“Alastor...” whispered Lucifer in disbelief.   

The sinner extended her hand to shake Lucifer’s. “Pleasure.”   

“Mom, Alastor has helped so much manage everything so far. Having an Overlord’s help has been such a benefit in gathering sinners for the redemption project,” said Charlie, cooing and fawning over her employee.   

Alastor flicked her wrist. “Oh darling, no need for all the praise. I’m simply here to see this all fail. It will be rather entertaining.” The way Alastor spoke, the cockiness in her tone, and the added benefit of a radio frequency only further solidified her identity. It was Alastor...  

Her Alastor.   

Lucifer took the extended hand and shook it, putting on a playful facade to combat Alastor’s jest. “Charmed.”   

When their hands peeled away, Lucifer found a piece of paper snuck into her palm. Charlie kept talking about their progress and Alastor played the role of her manager brilliantly. When she had a moment, Lucifer turned around and opened the note:  

I am here now... my love... my apple...    

Lucifer’s eyes welled with tears. She turned to look at Alastor. Sensing the gaze, the Radio Demon turned around and softened her smile as if to say aloud the final sentence of the hidden note.   

I am all yours -- from now until eternity.