Archive of Our Own ^beta

They looked around the hotel room they'd been squatting in since arrival. It was worn down, less so than others near it, but still, no real window or door, just boards left over from half-heartedly sealing it up. The water shockingly still ran, but only cold. All manner of creatures scuttled about in the light and the dark.

They didn't know when their last meal had been. They'd gotten scared as hell – in hell, of all places – of going out in the open. How did one live here? Especially in a body like theirs?

They supposed that was the point of hell, though. Eternal torment and all.

The fighting was fine enough. They'd always been good at it. Strong, fast, adaptable.

Still.

They could do better.

–

They flipped through the notebook of names, the detailed pros and cons lists.

They turned the dial on the radio.

–

When they found him, finally, they were fortunate it was an otherwise empty street.

Hells, but he was-

A shiver ran through them. This was stupid. They felt stupid. Oh, but they felt stupid. Him, in the flesh, what could they possibly offer him? They should go back and go back to exactly what they'd done in life. Head down, dress their further-exaggerated curves to hide everything they hated about themself, and just get a job as someone's hired muscle.

The thought filled them with such an intense revulsion that they felt their chest tight, felt almost faint at it.

They were doing this.

“Um, excuse me, Mr Radio Demon?” they finally called, forcing words past their dry, thick tongue.

A crackle went through the air before he pivoted from looking in through a shop window.

“Oh, my, salutations!”

He bowed, slightly.

They doubted he would have, were it not for the form they were saddled with.

They did return it, they knew well enough that manners were important.

“What can a fellow like myself do for you?” he asked.

Their knees felt weak. Terrible. This had been a terrible idea.

“I… f-first of all, a- an honor to be meeting you, sir, I- big fan- big, big fan of the show-”

They couldn't do this. They really couldn't do it.

He tilted his head at them, a nearly gentle smile on his wide mouth as they struggled through it.

“Here, dear, let's have somewhere a bit more private to talk, put yourself at ease! I can't imagine you just came over to fawn! I smell an inquiry, some kind of business, am I right?”

They nodded, too quickly, too enthusiastically. Maybe they could.

They hadn't expected to drop straight down through the ground, gave a little shriek as they landed so precisely into a dimly lit booth in a bar- no, lounge they'd never seen before.

“My dear girl,” he said, and they tried desperately to keep their expression level. He had no way to have known. “What will you have to drink?”

“Um- s-sour- whiskey- whiskey sour, sir,” they stammered.

“Oh, my, someone after my own heart!”

It was moments before the sharp tang had their shivers starting to subside, the scent, the flavor centering them long before the alcohol had any direct effects.

He sat back, one leg crossing over the other and sipping his own drink.

“Well, my dear, it's uncommon someone is so bold as to approach me as you did, so clearly, you have something worth quite a lot to you to talk about!”

They swallowed.

They looked desperate. This was already going terribly.

Another sip.

“Mr… Radio Demon-”

“Call me Alastor, my dear!”

They took a breath.

“Mr… Alastor, sir, I want to enter into a contract with you, offering my service in- in- hells- in combat, in subterfuge-”

They were losing the words.

“Take your time,” he said, “drink, we're not in a rush.”

His voice crackled through them. His gaze flicked away, towards the center of the room, then back to them.

“I've always found that jazz puts me at ease, have anything like that yourself?”

They took a breath. They felt like their cut-short hair was sticking to the back of their neck.

“I …um… music? Electronica.”

He laughed. “Oh, we are of different eras. A belle like yourself-”

He caught that jolt of tension that ran through them, leaned in.

“Ah, fair enough! No offense intended! Do go on!”

“That's part of it,” they murmured, looking away.

“I'm all ears,” he said, and the tufts atop his head pricked forward.

“So, I…need a new body. And if you give it to me, I can make myself very, very useful to you, assuming my skills are the type you need – I can kill, I can steal, I can be eyes and ears, I'm discrete, and things… things can't easily be tortured out of me. And…here's where it, I guess, gets kinda…speculative. If it's something you can do, I don't want my soul tied to a body. If I die… I don't know if this is even possible, but, if you bring me back and just…” and they made a dropping motion with their hand, “I'll just…get right back to it.”

He was quiet a long moment, looking them over. His eyes didn't linger, at least, just an evaluation before fixing on their own.

“My. Well. Isn't that something!” he chirped.

They looked at him with all of the confidence of a rabbit frozen under the nose of a wolf. They held still, waiting for him to say something, anything else.

He finally, after a time that crawled by, tilted his head.

“I'd like to see what you can do. I'm loath to decline you, you seem fascinating, and I'd hate to leave someone in the position in which you find yourself, but, well, it’s a tall ask, isn’t it? And I can do plenty of my own fighting.”

They waited to see if he resumed before picking up themself. “Sir, if you need someone completely unlinked to yourself, though, if you need things done that don't tie back to you, that's where I fit in. I'll do a demonstration – a skills test, if you want. Assign me something. I'll get it done.”

He took another sip.

“Anything?” he asked, a dangerous hum of static running through the air. 

They took a bracing sip themself, that sip turning into a full gulp that drained their glass, burned the back of their throat, bumped the ice into their nose.

“I'd…” they frowned. Was it really the time to be imposing limits? But if they didn't say something now, would it really be time to later? “I’d rather not use this body to my…advantage, if you understand. In one that is… different, that's fine, but… not this one.”

He hummed. “Mm, it hadn't even crossed my mind! Such things don't! So you'll find yourself perfectly safe from such assignments under my care! But! That aside?”

They nodded. There was nothing left to drink. Their mouth felt dry.

“Yes, sir. Anything.”

His smile took on a lethal edge.

“I can certainly do it. One week will be your probationary period. At the end of one week, one way or another, you’ll be quite relieved of the burden of existing in this body! If I decide to have you, your soul will be tied to my existence, to the radio waves, and be restored to a body on each death at my discretion. You will be mine, until the end of your days in hell – bound to my service, and entirely mine to do with as I please. No refusals, no negotiation, mine. And, dear, if I'm displeased with your service, I'll tear you apart myself.”

They flinched as his form distorted, disjointed, as a sickly aura flickered around him and his eyes darkened to black, dials flicking to maximum in the depths of them. Claws and teeth lengthened, sharpened, as he put out his hand to him.

“Do we have a deal?”

Their waterline burned. They could heave from the stress. It was still better than their death. It was still better than their death, they demanded themself to remember, pushing through the paralyzing fear to reach for his hand.

“Yes, sir,” they said, voice cracking. “We have a deal.”

“Excellent!” he chirped, all of the distortion, the fuzz in the air seeming to snap back to normal like a pulled plug. “I'll draw up the formal contract, and at the end of the week, if I like your performance, you'll sign it! If I don't, well, it'll hardly matter, with the number of pieces you'll be in! But, hah! At least you won't have to worry about the body!”

A tightness ran through them, an anchoring inside of their body, a tether that seemed tied to his hand as he withdrew it, and then felt themself start to tip forward.

“Oh, my, yes, it's quite a sensation, isn't it?”

He uncurled his fingers and it slackened, then grinned and clenched once more. They dropped to their elbows against the table, gasping.

“Dear, I will be nothing but fair to you, but I have high expectations.”

They forced themself to nod, wheezing air in. Their core burned, suddenly.

“I've given you a little gift to play with. Consider it an advance on our deal. It will make your first assignment easier… or harder, depending on what you do with it!”

That burning was leaking from their mouth, smoke rising in the dim air.

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir,” they gasped out.

The pull slackened. The burning did not.

“Your first assignment is twofold! One- don't die! That gift will kill you if you're sloppy with it! Two- kill someone who I would think deserves it.”

It was the worst case of heartburn they'd ever felt in their life, and the more attention they paid it, the worse it became, hot and painful. They stared at him, eyes wide, jaw slack, breath coming fast – too fast, too shallow.

“Breathe, █̷̡̨̯͓͍̳͇̜̮̯͉̦͎͈̼̼̖͈̝̖͐͒̊̀̔͒█̷̪͚̆͑̊̔̀̽͒̐̄̏̽̏͑͘█̴̘̫̻̰̘̬̗̰͓͈̘̼͗̂̀̉̂̿͊̍̃͋͌̆̄̈́͐̚̚͝█̵͖̟͖̦̄̄́̀̎̑̌͛̉̀͌̆̓̆̽̾̎͛̓,” he said, and they realized they'd never introduced themself, never told him.

“Um-” they gasped, “Kae- Kaedee, please, sir. And- and I'm- I'm not- I'm not a girl-”

“Mm! Noted, Kaedee, dear!”

“Thank you, sir,” they said. Their breathing was leveling, the burning subsiding.

“I'll give you one piece of advice,” he said, “before I let you loose! Eat. Feed the fire or else it will feed on you.”

“Yes, sir,” they said, “thank you, sir.”

“Very welcome, dear, now, off with you!”

They nodded, stood, and had expected to step out, to find the door.

They found themself dropped back onto the street, landing on their ass. Sparks drifted out with their knocked-out breath.

One week.

–

Someone he would think deserved to die.

They'd spent the day on it, drinking the coldest water they could, sucking on ice cubes, anything to stop what felt like being melted from inside.

Crying, too. There was some of that, knees pulled up to their chest and face buried between there.

Worse before better, they tried desperately to convince themself.

They drew a freezing cold bath, glad that the tub hadn't cracked at any point before they took the room, and dropped into it, shivering from pain and cold and the weight of their new reality.

The distraction they kept grasping at was what they'd seen from the other side of the glass before ducking, slinking away, terrified to be caught in the wrong place, gawking.

It was almost a form of chivalry, they decided. Someone behaving in a manner opposite to that. A bully?

Their lip curled.

A predator.

That would do it.

And it would prove so, so satisfying to them.

The water around their hands started to bubble. They yelped at the heat, their skin reddening, starting to blister.

They shook their hands, whimpering, dousing them into the more distant water from themself that was still cool, then, impatient, turning on the tap.

“Oh my god- oh my god I'm- I'm going to die- I'm going to die before I even get it done- fuck, fuck-” they sobbed as the water ran over the blistered skin.

He'd told them not to die, as though it was achievable. It had to be achievable. It wouldn't make sense if he'd granted them power just to have them die.

He had to have seen something. It was a hollow thought, but they thought it so intently. He had to have seen something that made him believe there was a chance.

They shivered in the water.

Their chest settled.

Their hands still stung, but the water wasn't heating simply from washing over them.

“Fuck,” they whimpered, keeping their hands in the cold stream.

A nail fell off and floated in the water. Blood tinted it, spreading muddy red.

They heard it numbly as the water spilled to the floor and yelped, pulling the plug, and feeling the resurgence of heat.

–

The fire flickered in their palm, separated just enough from the skin to prevent its burning immediately. It was too hot, though, and they felt the skin starting to tighten past a few seconds and let it snuff out.

They pulled the glove on, and let the fire come to life again.

–

Deciding on a category of victim, they realized, was the easy part.

Finding one? It should have been easy. They were in hell. But what they were looking for was more than just generalized violence. They were on day five. Maybe he had meant a business week, they idly fantasized.

They wandered down the street, chewing idly on the remains of an ice cream cone.

“Put that mouth to use on something bigger, gorgeous!” they heard, and cringed, looking around sharply.

Not a soul in sight.

They gritted their teeth, nearly about to walk on, before a surge of something – excitement? That wasn't good – ran through them.

They followed in the direction they'd heard it from.

The disappointment they felt when they realized the speaker to be continuing on his way, nothing happening, soured their stomach, the heat inside of them rising.

“Fucked up,” they murmured to themself. “That is fucked up.”

–

It wasn't until they were walking out of the bar – day six, late night – that they heard it.

Under the sounds of the night, they heard the sob, the pleading.

They froze in their steps, heat in their fingers, on the back of their tongue.

It was too familiar.

It was far, far too real.

A trembling went through them. Their eyes burned.

Hells, oh, hells, they couldn't do it, they were too scared, they-

Would still be alive, if anyone had cared enough to have helped them.

They took off, heat under their feet, sparks in their wake, the pain in their throat nothing to them.

Every moment they didn't find the source was greater agony than the way their gloves started to crack, their soles were going soft from heat.

When they caught sight of the demons, the one with the other pressed to the wall, and both looked up, they realized the glow of superheated flame they exuded.

It didn't hurt – not in a way they could perceive.

A doe.

Their eyes met.

–

“No, don't touch me,” they gasped, “just get out of here, go home, I'll- it's normal, I'll be fine. I- I heal.”

They weren't going to be. They didn't.

They could feel heat inside in places it shouldn't be. They had to keep swallowing to keep blood from bubbling up in their mouth. They weren't certain their swallows were reaching their stomach.

They still managed to heave breath in and execute a little bow.

Something hot and wet dripped from their nose.

She was scared enough to follow their directions – to run.

They stood rigid until she was gone.

“Well, well!” came a voice from the darkness. “Look at you, my dear!”

Something dark wrapped around them, keeping them from sinking to the ground. He stepped into view – elegant, tall, so unbothered.

“You've completed your first assignment!”

“I- I'm sorry, sir, I- I think I'm- I'm about to fail the- the-”

They were running out of breath. They wheezed through the rest.

“-don't die part!”

“Oh, dear, not at all! I'm simply not going to let that happen! Open, dear!” he said, suddenly so close, too close, and his finger on their lower lip. The contact hurt.

They let their jaw hang slack, shivering, skin raw and unsettlingly wet.

“Now, this will be unpleasant, no time to explain,” he said. “May I?”

They nodded. Their vision was darkening along the edges.

He clenched his other hand and they felt something snaking down their throat and just as suddenly going taut, and then something else – at the end of it? – moving inside of them, being dragged.

They didn't scream.

It hurt too badly, their eyes rolling as the agony of having something ripped out, too big, forced up their throat, tissue tearing at the force of trying to accommodate the size of what was coming up.

“Hold on for me, just another moment-”

They didn't have a choice.

They couldn't breathe with how it was stuck until something cracked, and then, they couldn't for how it didn't work.

They were frozen, no feeling left in their body, a detachment, greater than numb.

He gave another hard, snapping pull, and their jaw came apart, hung limp, fractured, as something dangled from a radiant chain.

He took the glistening lump, shiny with fluids, into his hands.

They felt far away from themself, like looking at him from down a long tunnel.

“Now, you may feel strange, dear. It's normal! My, what a lovely soul you have!”

They couldn't speak. They couldn't do anything, not even blink.

“Shh, you're panicking, don't worry, sweetheart! I've done this before, you're in good hands!”

They felt the pat against their cheek but as though through heavy cloth.

“Now, I'm sorry, dear, but you are about to die. This body, that is! Breathe for me- ah, right! You can't! Your chest is completely caved in! You're going to come to in three- two-”

–

“One.”

They surged to consciousness, panic screaming in their head.

“There you are, dear,” he said, and they could feel his clawed fingers against their cheek. “Relax, for me. We're going to get your body settled.”

Naked.

They were naked.

A shiver- a shiver they could feel went through them. They forced themself still, to hold still rather than immediately tucking into themself to cover, to hide every curve that was laid bare under his gaze.

“I-”

Their voice croaked out, a timbre they didn't know

Nothing hurt.

“Please- d-don't touch-”

“Mm,” Alastor hummed, and it lightened, but didn't cease entirely. “Apologies, dear, it's only for calibration. I'm adjusting your frequency, nothing prurient.”

Their eyes slipped closed. They breathed. They could breathe.

“Focus, Kaedee, dear. Focus on the signal.”

They were about to ask what he meant when a hum ran through them. Raw static filled their head.

“Breathe, find the breaths in it, harmonize with me.”

It was noise.

No, it was noise that dimmed and rose.

They pulled in breath, let it out.

“Good, good Kaedee. Relax, dear, and let me in.”

Tension-

Breathing.

The slow, steady breath in his signal.

It started to thin, to sink into the background.

“That's it, good, good,” Alastor said, but from inside their head.

“Sir?” they asked.

Their mouth didn't move.

“Now,” he said, “this is delicate. You're going to show me what you want to be. Take your time, dear!”

No, they didn't need time.

They had it, immediately, maybe too fast, the body laying out in their mind, but, then-

Changes.

And those came fast.

“My! Right on deck! Now, hold it, dear!”

An ache spread through them. Shifting. Wet sounds. Bones moving without their control. Muscles tensing and relaxing. The bones of their face radiating with pain, and then, something in their mouth, their gums feeling empty, suddenly, and then raw and stretched. Their fingers ached, something pushing out through their skin, far too fast. Their skull, all through it, felt foreign, fragile, punched-through. And, something wriggled underneath them, from the base of their spine.

“Nearly done, dear, just hold on a moment longer.”

Their jaw clenched, and it felt different.

“There, and, that's the cherry on top!”

When their eyes opened, the first thing they noticed was their nose. The grey, they blaze of white cutting through it. The vivid blue framed in vivid magenta at the end of it. It wasn’t invisible to them yet.

“Let's wait on the mirror, and have you ensure everything works!”

The static seemed to dissipate fully from their head. It was so quiet, now, and the aches had winked out. They felt heat in their throat.

He held his hand to them, and they reached for it, grossly missing, hand slapping against the table they were laid out on. Their reach was different.

Alastor laughed, hard, a manic light in his eyes.

“No, no, not laughing at you, dear- hah, who am I fooling, entirely at you! Ah, my goodness, you have quite a lot to get used to!”

They squinted at him. He was sharper, clearer in their vision. They looked down to the hand that he then took, pulled them into a sitting position with. Long fingers, strong, tipped in sharp claws, fine fur covering them, running up their arm, the magenta that the white inside of their arm faded into-

Their mouth was dry.

“It's a dream- it's a dream- this isn't real,” they gasped.

“No, Kaedee, it's quite real. I've delivered on my part of this bargain! You have your new body. Your soul is attached to my frequency, where I can access it at my leisure, and it is nigh-indestructible so long as it's connected to me.”

They stayed staring at their hand in his.

“Now, I'm going to go through some ground rules. First, the practical ones, then, the contractual ones, and we'll sign your contract.”

They nodded, gaze fixed.

“Eyes on me, dear, you can preen over your body later. Ah, goodness, but you did make it very easy for me, at least! Incredible!”

“Y-yes- yes sir,” they said, looking up. 

He hadn't let go yet, but possibly because, as they themself had realized, that touch was grounding them.

“Now, these are all things you'll need to remember, for your survival, so please do focus.”

They nodded, muscles feeling strange and more stiff than before.

“Don't leave signal range, dear, or else you'll be beyond where I can help you. If there are no radio waves at all, you will be on your own until something, even if it isn't me, is back.”

He sighed, a grimace tinting his smile.

“In a pinch, you can use other types of signal, but, I would really prefer you did not. I'd rather not have to hunt for you.”

They nodded. “Yes, sir, understood.”

“Now, as well, your flames need to be fed! Eat, and eat plenty! None of that starving you were doing before! They will no longer hurt you normally, you are insulated inside, but if you burn them unnaturally hot, there's no telling if it will be enough, so kindly don't overdo it for fun. Reconstructing your body is possible, but it takes a good amount of my time and energy, I'd rather not do it excessively! Yes, dear, ask-”

“Will it be the same process, if it has to happen again?”

“-not at all! You'll come back roughly the same, just with some…signal degradation, little differences here and there! Nothing that should cause you problems. Mm. Now, as I was saying! You'll find you can do small changes to yourself. You're entirely sexless at present, and you can change that as you like!”

“Oh-” they breathed, feeling a stinging at the edges of their eyes, the edges of their mouth pulling up.

“Yes, thought you might like that!”

“Thank you,” they said, still feeling their chest too full and their throat tight.

“You're very welcome, dear, now, and this is very important, nobody except those I tell should know of our association. You are not to tell people of our deal, of your directions coming from me. You brought up a fascinating angle to me, and it is precisely how I'll be making use of you – you'll be doing things for me that I don't want attached to me. Is that perfectly clear?”

His grip was tight.

“Yes, sir, crystal. Not a word. We don't know each other, not a bit.”

“Good, good, Kaedee. Now, you'll stay here, briefly, to get used to your new body. After, well! I'll likely only see you when you're being reconstituted, or when I have an assignment for you!”

They nodded, slowly, soberly.

“Now! Contractuals! Let's get you to your feet!”

They were unsteady, legs as wobbly as a newborn foal- fawn, as it happened.

“That last was a bit of the contract- the rest of it, though-”

–

When he laid the paper on the table, they read through it, and then, a new problem presented. They nearly crushed the barrel of the pen in their grip, trying to keep it from slipping free with their claws getting in their own way.

“S-sorry-” they murmured as they tried to hold it properly.

“Oh, no need to apologize! Take your time!”

Yes, take their time formalizing the signing-away of their life. Unlife. Death.

They finally found a grip that they felt they could control enough to scrawl their name, but before pressing pen to paper, they looked up at him.

“...can I…use my… um… do I have to use my… legal name, sir?”

He shrugged. “Oh, goodness no, it doesn't matter what you sign as! Sign as furball, for all it matters, it's binding to you, regardless!”

Kaedee. Signed on the line. Ink still drying when they saw the chain appear in his hand, the open half hanging free. He sat on the table and reached for them.

They raised their chin and lifted their hair, baring their neck to him.

“You're…being awfully- awfully, um …gentle, about this,” they said as he fastened it, ethereal metal glowing softly in the low light.

“Mm! I know my audience! You aren't the type for threats! In fact, I believe if I were to pat your head and tell you how incredibly good you were after every assignment, you'd-”

Their eyes scrunched shut. Heat rose in their cheeks.

“Hah! Yes, just what I'd thought!” he trilled.

The collar sat heavy on them.

He gave a tentative tug of the chain fastened to it.

They moved before the cuff hit the back of their neck.

“I do love being right! Ah! A shame, you and I won't see much of each other! I think I'd have entirely too much fun with you!”

He did it. He patted atop their head, his claws scraping against the budding antlers that had just started to sprout from under their hair.

“At your service, sir,” they said, everything else lost to them.