"Vaggie! The Radio Demon is heading straight for the door!"
"WHAT?!"
A second later, someone knocked. Before Vaggie could speak again, Charlie opened the door.
"May I come in and take the mic?"
"You may," Charlie replied, arms crossed.
As soon as Charlie gave permission, the man in red, wearing a broad smile, rushed into the hotel, announcing himself.
"Alastor! My pleasure to meet you, darling! A real pleasure! Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your fiasco on TV. Well, I haven't had this much fun since the stock market crash of 1929! Haha, so many orphans..."
While Alastor, Charlie and Vaggie were deep in conversation, my gaze fell on Alastor — or more precisely, on his soul. He was the first demon I'd seen with such a strong, dark soul. What surprised me most was a small twisted chain that circled around it.
"Well then, my dear, a little drink?" I said, turning my head toward Angel, still sitting beside me, and preparing two glasses of whiskey.
"Wow! You know how to talk to the ladies, handsome," he said, taking the glass.
While Angel and I drank and chatted, I noticed he also had a small chain attached to his soul — much weaker than Alastor's, but it was there. That'll be for later.
A few minutes later, Charlie and Alastor reached an agreement.
"Right! Where is your staff?" Alastor asked.
He then approached us and asked Angel,
"What can you do, my distinguished, effeminate friend?"
"I can suck your cock."
"Ahahah! No!"
Then he turned his gaze to me. His eyes scanned me as if searching for a weakness. His smile grew a touch more diabolical. He extended his hand and asked:
"Delighted to meet you, distinguished character! May I know your name, and what role you play in this hotel?"
I made my glass vanish in midair. I rose from the couch and shook his hand with a slight smile.
"The pleasure is mine! You can call me Caelvor. And my role here? Well, it depends on things and my mood, but generally I can do anything."
"Ahah, then can your mood help us find staff, or is that too much to ask?!" he said, sarcastically.
"Ahah, sorry to disappoint. But my 'staff' aren't used to doing trivial, peaceful tasks like running everyday business!" I retorted to his sarcasm, fixing him with my gaze.
"There's tension between the strawberry Mac and the angelic face," Angel said amusedly, still on the couch.
We stayed like that for a while. Our hands remained poised, our looks sharpened, our smiles turned threatening. It took Charlie's intervention to separate us, pushing us apart.
"Okay, that's enough, you two! Can't you be nicer and just talk normally, without making us feel like you want to kill each other?" she scolded, continuing.
"And as the owner of this hotel, I order you to behave! Agreed?" she added, hands on her hips.
"Hmm, agreed!" ×2
Right, time to move on. My goal of being accepted into the hotel was accomplished. Despite that childish scuffle, nothing serious had happened.
I approached Charlie, who was still talking with Vaggie. Hands behind my back, I said,
"I must go. I have matters to take care of at home and some people to see. I'll come back tomorrow or the day after."
"What? But you just arrived. I was planning a wellness session tonight with everyone. Look—" Charlie said, producing drawings of a small portal and waving them teasingly in front of my face.
"Sorry, princess, I'd have loved to join. But today it's not possible," I said, moving the papers out of my line of sight.
"Alright then... But next time there will be no excuse to skip a redemption session," she pouted slightly.
After I nodded, a portal appeared behind me. I stepped in, and the portal snapped shut within a second.
"I don't trust that guy — he's too suspicious. He shows up, asks to join, then leaves," Vaggie said, eyebrows knitted.
"I like him. He's handsome, he speaks well, he gave me a drink, and he's probably damn rich. Have you seen that couch? I dream of getting laid on something so soft and plush," Angel said, collapsing onto the couch Caelvor had conjured.
"That's the problem! He's too 'perfect' to be unknown in Hell. Even lounging on a couch, he radiates an aura of royalty and power," Vaggie said, crossing her arms and glaring at Angel.
"Vaggie, I'm sure you're worrying for nothing. I'm sure deep down he's a good person — otherwise he wouldn't have agreed to join our mission for redemption," Charlie said, taking Vaggie's hand.
"You forgot the smiling-on-legs — we can't say he's a good person," Vaggie muttered, glancing at Alastor standing a few meters away.
"I heard you, but never mind. Enough about our shiny-eyed 'friend'. Let's get back to the staffing issue."
---
Location: Abyss / Obsidian Tower / Throne Room.
Once I stepped out of the portal, I sat on my throne. I thought about what to do next — I wasn't planning to spend eternity in this hotel.
First, I had to find a way to harvest souls without starting a war. I had several options, but none were very peaceful. Ideally, I'd intercept the souls of humans who die on Earth before they reach Heaven or Hell.
In my tower I already had a crystal capable of capturing souls. But the problem was this universe behaved like Warhammer: when a human dies, their soul disappears.
They aren't claimed by a god, but vanish to a place of judgment known only to that god.
"This won't be a big problem..." I told myself, closing my eyes and tapping my finger rhythmically on the armrest.
After ten minutes of thought, I opened my eyes — I had found a provisional solution. Even if the method would be slow and unreliable, it would work.
What if humans did it for me?
I didn't want to act personally, and if I sent my soldiers, it would cause global panic.
With that idea in mind, I snapped my fingers twice and teleported to another chamber in my tower.
It was large and hexagonal in shape, with six pillars reaching up to a non-existent ceiling. On each pillar, runic lines glowed with a greenish light. In the center stood a hexagonal obsidian altar studded with runes.
But what made me most proud in that room was a massive kite-shaped crystal hovering ten meters above the altar. Engraved with runic phrases — infernal, angelic, and fey — it was an artifact I had spent over six hundred years crafting without it exploding. I'd had many failures.
But it was worth it. The crystal had many uses; the two most practical were: automatically attracting and storing souls from an entire universe, and the one I needed now — creating and binding superior artifacts through materialization that require no rare materials, only a little magic and a large number of souls.
"Time to get to work!" I said, approaching the altar.
I positioned myself before it, closed my eyes, and raised my arms over the altar, splaying my fingers.
Using magic, a luminous white light with a faint blue tinge condensed at the altar's center.
The runes on the pillars and the crystal flared, shifting to a bluish hue.
A great number of souls poured from the crystal and crashed into the light at the altar's center. Now it was only a matter of time.
[5 hours later]
After feeling the creation complete, I lowered my arms behind my back, opened my eyes, and inspected my work.
At the altar's center the light had given way to about three medieval-style daggers, each without a sheath.
A crystalline blue blade with a gold groove down the center, engraved with faintly glowing runes. A simple golden guard. A blood-red hilt etched with small black motifs. And a gold pommel carved with a large rune on both sides.
If I had to give these weapons a rank like in a video game, it would be:
Cursed Souls — Heroic Rank.
Once released onto Earth, they would teleport next to the humans with the darkest karma.
If after twenty minutes the human didn't pick up the dagger, it would teleport away and try another victim, returning later to attempt again.
But if someone, out of curiosity, picked up a dagger, a mark would form on their palm. They would become utterly consumed by murder until they died of exhaustion.
By killing others with my dagger, their souls would return to me, via a small crystal linked to the tower's crystal hidden in the hilt.
Once the dagger's bearer died, their soul would be taken as well. And if no one claimed a dagger within twenty minutes, it would teleport to another victim.
Why not make more than three daggers? three was more than enough, maybe even too many. After all, the dead never stop.
"Nice work — five hours well spent," I said, nodding in satisfaction.
After storing the cursed weapons in my shadow, I teleported directly to Earth.
Once on Earth, I released the three identical daggers. They vanished for a second, then went to accomplish their grim destinies.
"Another busy day. Glad I'm on vacation... yeah... vacation... Alright, time to go sleep," I said before leaving.
As Caelvor returned home to sleep, things unfolded differently in three places across the world.
Location: Earth / Mexico / Prison
A hitman for a drug cartel lay on his bunk, staring at the ceiling, eyes closed, lost in memories of when he was still free — far from this prison.
Then the faint clink of metal falling made him start. He sat up with incredible speed. And there, two hundredths of a second away, a dagger.
Without hesitation, he leaned forward and reached out his arm.
And...
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