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Husk isn’t sure what he’s doing back here again.
The bright lights and buzzing sounds of the Magic Kat are as familiar as his own voice, as the claws on his hands. He spent decades here, building his power, hoarding his greed, and wasting his afterlife. His brief stint back in the old joint a few months ago had been a reckless decision, one made out of frustration. Without the hotel, he really had nowhere else to go. Like he said, this is where he belongs.
It still surprises him, though, even after all these years that these sinners welcome him back with open arms. As if no time had passed. As if he hadn’t ruined everything.
While making his way across the casino floor, a pair of the Huskettes, Sandy and Lucy, give him a friendly wave. They offer him a game, and he’s hit with a wave of nostalgia. It’s like no time has passed since he used to roam these halls with authority and not desperation. He never understood why they don’t resent him, why they’re still willing to give him the time of day. He shakes his head, weary, “I learned my lesson last time. Just here for a drink.”
Sandy sighs as she puts away her deck, golden hair gleaming in the flashing lights, “Boss, you vanish on us for a year, come back for a night, vanish again, and now you ain’t playin’? That radio fuck’s gotta lay off whatever he’s makin’ you do. We miss havin’ you around.”
Lucy nods, “You still owe me a round of blackjack.” She fidgets with her bow tie absentmindedly, wondering, “By the way, what happened to Angel Dust? Haven’t heard from him in a while.”
“Oh, he’s such a sweetheart. Crazy coincidence you two knew each other, huh, boss?” Sandy pauses, her smile dropping, “You okay?”
Husk supposes he should have expected the topic to be brought up. After all, there’s no way that night had been the first time Angel had performed at Magic Kat. Sounds as if he had been a bit of a regular performer, at least around enough to be perfectly comfortable in the lounge.
It’s strange. His life at the hotel, the last whirlwind of a year since Alastor’s sudden return and the Princess’s dream coming to fruition, it’s all so separate from the life he cultivated here. His history as an Overlord, and the sad drunkard who stuck around (at least when Alastor wasn’t pulling him around for whatever task he required). Husk has a penthouse on the top floor that he hasn’t even set foot in since he started living at the hotel. No idea if they’ve kept it clean, or if he’s going to find the place in whatever condition he left it in before. Back when he was gambling away, sheltered from the exterminations, biding his time for his own boss’s inevitable return. It all seems so far removed after getting used to the presence of the hotel and its residents.
It feels as if he’s been hollowed out, forced to move along despite a critical piece of him missing. It eats away at him, the vision of Angel in tears, ripping his hand out of his gentle hold, and walking back into that fucking tower. It’s seared onto the back of his eyelids, a vivid recollection every time he closes his eyes.
He and Cherri haven’t heard a word from Angel. They keep an eye out for him, for anything, but besides Valentino’s continued publicity, there hasn’t been a shred of their Angel to be found.
Maybe that’s why he’s here. Praying maybe Angel would still be working here, maybe continuing his performances. At least he could have this job between whatever hell Valentino put him through. While they didn’t have the chance to talk about it before everything happened, Husk could tell how much Angel loved performing here, how much more confident and assured he’d been standing and singing on that stage. He looked dazzling, he was like a bright star, he was…
He was gone.
Husk shakes his head, waving off their concern, “I’m fine. And, Angel’s gone back to the studio.”
The two girls share a look, but thankfully don’t comment any further. He leaves them be to do their job, and heads deeper into the establishment.
Husk drops heavily onto a seat at the bar, and orders a whiskey. Just one, or three, he thinks.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
A plant demon takes the stool to his left. She’s dressed in a crisp white shirt and golden vest, her vine-like hair with white flowers woven into the strands held back with a clip in the shape of a deck of cards. Her gap-toothed grin is soft, tugging at freckled cheeks. However, as he has for over twenty years now, Husk’s eyes catch the thin scar on her neck first before meeting her earthen brown eyes.
“Jade,” He breathes her name, pleasantly surprised to see her. Despite his mood, he manages a small crooked smile for her, “How’ve you been?”
She shrugs, “Business as usual.” Her grin widens, “Well, despite the dozens of birdies who told me you stopped by on my day off. Glad to see you could grace us with your presence again.”
Husk frowns, “Sorry, I’ve… I’ve been tangled up in a bit of a long job.”
“Yeah, we saw.” Her expression changes to something more solemn, “Scared us shitless when we saw you goin’ toe to toe with fucking exorcists. And, whatever the hell the Vees were up to? Thought you knew how to pick your battles, old man.”
“Didn’t have a choice.” Her eyes flash with anger, and he amends, “Couldn’t have lived with myself if something happened to them. I had to.”
“Oh,” She hums, “Guess the others were right. You do have a soft spot for that hotel.”
“It ain’t so bad. And, you all are plenty fine runnin’ the casino without me here.”
“Gotta learn quick when the boss is wasted most days. And, the other doesn't even bother to show his face.” He and Jade chuckle, before she asks, “Speaking of, has the Radio Demon given you any trouble lately?”
Husk really doesn’t want to talk about Alastor, or his newfound freedom. Whatever the guy has planned can’t bode well. He’s been in a strange mood since everything happened. Husk can’t really get a read on him anymore. He hasn’t had the patience or the energy to pry, not when every limb feels as heavy as it does, not when he can hardly find the will to get out of bed, not when he feels so powerless already. Alastor, for the most part, has left him alone; for now, at least.
“No.”
Jade’s poker face is as good as Husk’s—he taught her after all—but after as long as they’ve known each other, he can spot her tells a mile away. She doesn’t believe him, and he doesn’t blame her. He never can, not when it comes to Alastor. His eyes flicker to her scar again, and something aches within him. That powerlessness has been dragging him down day after day to the point it is nearly suffocating. He didn’t think an old wound could crack and bleed like this.
“Jade.”
She looks at him, and something in his expression must alarm her, because she places a worried hand on his shoulder and inquires, “What’s wrong?”
Everything, the word catches on the back of his tongue.
“I’m sorry. For not bein’ around lately, for what I’ve done, for…”
Her face softens, something sad gleaming in her eyes, “You have nothing to apologize for, Husk.” She squeezes where she holds him, reassuring, “You’re not nearly deep enough in your cups for a guilt trip. Besides, I’ve been dying to hear the details on how you of all sinners know Angel Dust.”
Husk grimaces, the pain never easing, never easier, “Gonna need a lot more drinks for that.”
“I got time, I can arrange that.” She nudges him, teasing, “Bet I can drink you under the table now.”
He huffs in amusement, smirking, “You’re on, kid.”
-
-
-
Husk has never considered himself a good man. He’s selfish, greedy, addicted to the rush of a win, the spill of a bottle. However, when it came to his mindset as an Overlord, he was never cruel, but not kind either. They were his employees first and foremost. They had a job to do, and he ensured they fulfilled whatever purpose was given to them. Not to say he didn’t indulge in his vices. He was just a man after all, he was often drowning in whiskey or deep in a game of cards. Waking up next to a warm body in his bed, but his memory fails him on many of their faces. He ran a business, maybe not a strict one, but a steady machine nonetheless.
So, the Magic Kat was successful. It made him filthy rich, and so he often had the freedom to sin, to do as he pleased. He offered his people freedom when he could, too. After all, many of the souls he collected came about from losing games against him. He can’t fault a gambler wanting to test Lady Luck, especially when it often puts money back in his pockets. Though that’s not to say all his contracts were formed from a losing hand.
Jade, for example, found her way to Husk’s house of cards when she needed help.
Husk has spent most of his afterlife in the Magic Kat, but an Overlord has meetings, turf reinforcements, and a hundred other things to take up their time. He wasn’t always locked away in his den of greed. When he walked down the streets of Pentagram City, his shorter stature didn't negate his presence. He could hear envious voices whispering his title, “The Gambling Demon.”
Not everyone is up to date with their Overlord politics, however. Especially the recently dead. It’s easy to tell when a sinner has landed in Hell not that long ago. They’re clumsier with their new form, panicked and confused. They haven’t quite picked up on the pecking order, the rules of the game. Their sins manifest, infect and fester, culminating in what will eventually be their forever nightmare. Husk would know, it took him months of bleeding across the concrete, tasting the sweet nectar of beezlejuice for the first time, dragging along a broken wing more times than he can count, getting thrown out of more poker games than he even had in life, before he eventually found his footing. Even then, it took a few years before he started gaining recognition as a potential force to be reckoned with.
At the time he met Jade, he had been at the height of his power. Several chains of casinos and resorts, thousands of souls all under his belt. He had close ties to Carmilla Carmine, the Radio Demon, and other feared hellish empires. Even Mammon had done business with him a handful of times. Few would dare mess with him.
So, imagine his surprise when a small demon with clever hands and an eye for jewels, uses his beloved sleight of hand against him.
She almost got away with it, too, but Husk has always been more observant than most. He can feel the weight of a loaded dice, can catch a card up a sleeve, and can spot a lie without words. Husk felt the slight shift in weight, where his pocket watch once was. Before the demon could round the corner, coveting her stolen prize, she found herself suddenly wrapped in golden chains. Trick rings, she would later realize.
Husk’s yellow eyes blazed harshly, “You got a lotta guts, kid.”
The plant demon wilted, flinching in fright, likely coming to terms with how badly she’s fucked up. With just a glance, he can tell she’s fresh. Unsure in her new form, unaware of her role in Hell, unflinchingly human in her fear. She curled in on herself, fingers gripping tightly to the pocket watch. It’s fashioned with gold and pearls, gleaming beautifully. An easy lure for a greedy heart.
White knuckles refuse to let go, like a lifeline for her lowly soul.
Husk knelt down to her level, glaring, “Think you can steal from just anyone, huh?”
“Can’t help it. We all got habits we can’t kick.” She shrugged, seeming resigned to her fate. With an almost child-like wonder, she ran a thumb over a pearl, admiring the way the light catches the precious stone, “It’s pretty.”
Honesty is something so rarely given these days. Hell is full of liars, manipulators, cheaters. Husk is one of them. In fact, he’s someone who enjoys playing tricks on the eyes, deceiving a crowd, bluffing his way through everything. He can’t help respecting this girl’s honesty. To her, there’s no point lying. She just wanted the watch, likely a pickpocketer or a kleptomaniac up top. The habit didn’t kick, as she said, even after she fell down here. Even the threat of a predator in an unknown land tearing her apart didn’t stop her.
Husk tilted his head, assessing her, “Do you wanna keep it?”
She looked up at him in surprise, eyes wide, “What?”
“You stole it because you wanted it, right?”
“Yeah…”
Husk stood, pulling on the rings binding her until she too rose to her feet. They vanished, leaving her free to run, but she remained rooted to the spot. She stared in astonishment as he offered his hand, “A deal, then. Earn it, and you can keep it.”
“How?” She frowned, glancing down at his offered claws with suspicion.
“Work for me. Pay off the debt, and it’s yours.”
She still hesitated, “Why—”
He interrupted, pressing, “You don’t have anywhere to go, am I right? You’ve been surviving on your own out here.”
She slowly shook her head, “Barely doin’ that.”
“Then, let’s go. I’ll add room and board to that debt.” Just one step closer, just one more push, he sweetened the deal, “You’ll have plenty more suckers who won’t notice a coin missin’ from their purses. Hell is Hell, doll, might as well come make some money.”
There, a spark in her eyes.
He grinned wide, his magic swirling around him, golden hues sparkling in contrast to the ever present blood red sky, “Just shake my hand.”
With one freckled hand gripping the pearlescent watch, and the other shaking Husk’s, their deal was set. He gestured with a jerk of his head for her to follow him, and asked, “What’s your name, kid?”
“Jade.”
“Husk. Welcome to the Magic Kat, Jade.”
-
Jade’s vices didn’t lean towards gambling or drinking, but she was certainly right at home with other greedy sinners. When he was monitoring the floor, he pretended not to see Jade pocket cufflinks, bracelets, earrings, wallets, and more. She was especially fond of the jewel of her namesake, anything green was up for grabs.
She got along swimmingly with the others, as long as she stole from patrons and not fellow co-workers. She’d often used her skills to screw with guests who were harassing or pissing off her friends, something Husk certainly never reprimanded her for. Those fuckers usually got kicked to the curb quickly anyway. Husk will tolerate slights against the casino, against Lady Luck’s fickle nature, but he will not have some slimy asshole thinking they can lay their hands on his souls whenever they please.
Jade fit into the picture of the Magic Kat’s whimsical allure, the promise of riches and thrills, but merely a trap for the weak and fallible. Husk’s patrons were poisoned by greed, eager to try and win against his house. Few ever succeeded. Jade may not have been much of a gambler, but she did her job flawlessly.
As Husk got to know the girl more, it became clear she died young, hardly an adult before she wound up down here. She didn’t get to experience much of what the world had to offer, got tangled up in the wrong crowds, stole what she had to in order to survive. But, she clearly enjoyed the thrill of it, too. She admitted that had she been more well off, she’s not sure if the impulse would be erased. Still, she’s also fiercely loyal and hardworking. Husk had seen something worth saving in her that day. He knew the harshness of Pentagram City, knew she needed somewhere stable and safe. So, he offered that to her, as he has with many others.
Bringing in Jade was a gamble, and as is the case with any gamble, it doesn’t always pay off. The dice don’t land the way you want them to, and he had plans if that had been the case. Though with Jade, he had nothing to fear. She was a winning hand, right at home amongst the buzz and cheer of nightlife.
Husk was fond of her tenacity, her daringness.
She was one of the last souls he’d given up in a string of losses against the Radio Demon. The look of despair in her eyes as the chain around her neck changed from the familiar gold of Husk’s magic to the sickly green of Alastor’s will haunt him for the rest of his afterlife. After years of loyalty at Husk’s side, this is the reward he offers her: his old pocket watch and a new, dangerous owner.
When Husk had nothing left to gamble, his own soul was put on the line.
The green chain encircled his throat, suffocating and heavy. What did he get in return? A desperate clawing at any semblance of power, his greedy heart bleeding. His magic is still his, the casino is still his. However, they all lose their freedom. Husk is now at the mercy of the Radio Demon, someone he once thought of as an equal, perhaps even a friend. Should’ve known his slice of paradise in Hell couldn’t last.
Everyone’s sin catches up to them eventually.
-
Husk was not used to taking orders. Even before he was an Overlord, he had never handed over his soul to another. He didn’t take shit from no one, tired of being told what to do all his life. He spent decades as the boss, power beyond imagination at his fingertips. It’s not an easy transition to suddenly be at the whims of a psychopath.
Alastor has his ways of keeping Husk in line.
For a while, it was what he expected. Threats of violence, excruciating pain, being sent on frivolous quests just to prove a point. He expected that. He’d seen the Radio Demon work, after all.
In those early days, Husk’s pride was still intact. Certainly his ego was heavily bruised, now that his broadcast had spread far and wide across the Pentagram. People knew Husker, the Gambling Demon, was finished.
Taking orders didn’t come naturally to him, not back then. Alastor was patient to a degree, but he found ways to tear Husk down, to shred his remaining dignity, and to sear loyalty into his skin.
What finally broke Husk, what ceased his disobedience, was Alastor’s cruelest method of torture.
The two of them had been going back and forth about a turf war for days. Husk was lazy by nature, more akin to a dragon hoarding their golden keep than a bloodthirsty creature of the night ready to strike at a moment’s notice. He could fight, that wasn’t the problem. He’d had to square up against plenty of self-absorbed jackasses in life and fuckers who don’t know when to quit down below. He just didn’t want to. Blood on his hands wasn’t his style of a power grab. He preferred sinners digging their own hole, and swooping in to snatch the rest of the pot.
Alastor enjoyed pain and suffering. He had been a serial killer in life, Husk knew that much at least.
The last thing Husk wanted to be was some smiling freak’s attack dog.
Husk growled, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
Alastor laughed heartily, spinning his staff, “Not at all, my friend.”
“Why don’t you just deal with them yourself? Have your fill.” Husk rolled his eyes, gripping the glass in his hand to a point he feared it might crack, “They won’t win.”
“That’s not the point, my little pet. You have to set an example. We have to remind everyone why they should not meddle in my affairs.” Alastor’s grin was wicked, stretched to the limit, “You will go, Husker.”
The glass finally did shatter, bits of jagged edges falling to the ground like shooting stars, as Husk jumped over the bar he’d been working and shoved a claw in Alastor’s chest, “I ain’t killing no one, Al.”
He can, and he has. There is plenty of blood on Husk’s hands. Doesn’t mean he enjoys the thought of it. Doesn’t mean he hasn’t spent hours licking his wounds, the memory of a dead man’s blood coating his skin, his fur.
The deer demon sighed as if he’s been inconvenienced, as if Husk’s words are merely an obstacle he’d rather not deal with, “Husker, it seems you have forgotten your place. Perhaps I have to remind you, as well.”
Something shifted in the air, his fur standing on end. His scowl morphed into something apprehensive. Fear flooded his veins like the buzz of a strong drink, as Alastor manifested the hard as steel chain around his throat. He growled, claws uselessly grabbing onto it, “Fuck–Alastor, I–”
With a snap of his fingers, Husk was thrown back against the far wall, his spine painfully colliding against it. The wind was knocked out of him, and he could hardly draw in a breath, as he was lifted and hanged. His feet kicked out, scrambling for purchase. His instincts kicked in a second later, his wings flapping in hurried, panicked beats, but it’s useless. Alastor held him there, admiring him like he’s a fly caught in his web, “A reminder, old pal. You will do what you’re told without question. I do not tolerate disobedience, and I do not have the time for your tantrums.” His shadows crawled against the wooden floors, his magic swirling in the air, “Ah, I know! A reminder of what loyalty looked like for you. Perhaps that will inspire a change of heart.”
Husk could hardly breathe, let alone speak, only managing a gruff, “Wh-What?”
Alastor grinned and brought his staff in hand to point at where the shadows are darkest, as deep and vast as the ocean. Emerging from the darkness was a familiar head of green hair and a pair of wide tiger’s eyes.
“Jade–” Husk choked, his efforts doubling as his blood turned to ice. Whatever Alastor planned to do with her, he had to stop it. He had to, he brought Jade to the casino to protect her, he couldn’t–
“Struggling is futile, dear Husker.” Alastor turned his attention to the smaller demon, humming thoughtfully, “If I remember correctly, our friend here is quite fond of you, Miss Jade. Understandably, your dedication to the Magic Kat cannot be overstated. It’s admirable, truly.”
Jade squirmed uncomfortably under the manic gaze of the Overlord, pleading, “Let Husk down, sir. Please.”
“How polite,” He tipped her chin up with the end of his staff, chuckling, “But, I’m afraid you are in no place to make demands. You are here because Husker needs a lesson in loyalty. I believe you will be the perfect candidate to demonstrate.”
Alastor manifested his chain around Jade’s throat, and she stumbled to her knees when he yanked harshly on it. Jade cried out, and Husk swore, “Al, if you lay a fucking hand on her–”
The Radio Demon rolled his eyes, sighing in disappointment, “I would watch your tone if I were you. Remember, I am in control here.”
To his horror, Husk watched as the chain around Jade’s throat grew thinner and constricted like a python intending to feed. Jade thrashed, mouth open in a silent scream, as the thin green rope bit into her skin. Blood dripped from the wound, staining the pristine collar of her shirt. She scratched at it, clawing at her own skin in an attempt to get a grip on it, anything to stop the constriction around her throat.
“Alastor, stop!”
His smile never wavered, as he considered the little plant demon below him, “I hate to do this, believe me, I do. Husker,” His eyes snapped to his own, dials spinning in hypnotizing circles, “Will you disobey me again?”
Husk gasped, “N-No. Let her go, I won’t… Shit, I’ll do what I’m told.”
Alastor lazily spun his staff, and when he planted it upon the ground with a laugh, Jade’s chain finally disappeared, and she drew in a desperate breath. At the same time, Husk was released, and he instantly ran up to her. He encircled her in his wings, a futile attempt to protect her from what was already done. She trembled against him, her hands on her throat, blood spilling between her fingers. She gasped in panic, tears streaming down her face. Husk called upon his magic to summon anything to help stem the bleeding. She flinched when he pressed a towel against the wound.
“I’m sorry, Jade, I’m so fuckin’ sorry–”
“You have one hour to prepare, Husker. If I find you still not accomplishing your required tasks, I am fully capable and willing to set more examples.” Alastor tilted his head mockingly, “Am I clear?”
“Crystal,” Husk growled, as the Overlord vanished amongst the shadows he cast. He turned his attention back on Jade, pushing words past the lump in his throat in a pathetic attempt at comforting her, “It’ll be okay, kid. Won’t let him pull that again, promise. I got you. I got you, it’ll be okay.”
Jade grasped his wrist where he was still putting pressure on her wound, and didn't say anything. Maybe she couldn’t, he didn’t know. He didn’t realize he was crying, too, until a tear landed on the arm he had outstretched. Through muscle memory alone, he bandaged her wound as best he could without choking her. (He had tried making it a little tighter, and it immediately set her off in a panic until he cut the damn thing with his claws, accompanied by the rumble of a hundred more whispered apologies.)
Once he was done, she buried her face in his chest, shuddering sobs echoing through the air. It felt like his ribcage cracked open, a painful ache he could hardly breathe through, as if the chain around his neck never went away. With claws meant to tear flesh apart, he gently held her close through the worst of it.
It’s a lie, he knew it was, but he tried to soothe her shaking with more whispers of, “It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”
-
It scarred, of course it does, Alastor would ensure that. A physical reminder for Husk every time he sees Jade. Disobeying is no longer only a danger to himself. That he can endure, that he can handle. People like Jade? They don’t deserve to be scarred for Husk’s mistakes.
Whatever was left of his pride died that night. He never pushed his luck again.
-
-
-
Several bottles later, Husk somehow managed to finish recounting the last year of his strange new life to Jade.
What he doesn’t expect is for her to immediately come out and say the quiet part out loud, “You’re in love with Angel.”
Husk barely holds back a wince, staring down into the dregs of his glass, “That’s a strong word, Jade.”
“Well, you feel very strongly for him. I’d say it fits.” She frowns sympathetically, “I had no idea he was going through all that. He was always so happy when he came around for his shows.”
Husk hadn’t divulged all of Angel’s secrets, there are plenty of tales that are not his story to tell, but he gave her enough to understand the severity of the situation. How vile and disgusting Valentino was, how awful it was that Husk couldn’t save him from going back.
“I wish I could see him. Talk to him.” Husk runs a hand through his disheveled hair, his hat long since set aside, “Let him know me and Cherri can help. Charlie, too.”
“Well, I’ll let you know if he ever comes around,” She shrugs, “It’s not much, but–”
“No, I appreciate it. Thank you.”
He couldn’t possibly thank her enough for all she’s done and endured for Husk’s sake. It may not seem like much, but any ounce of hope he can sequester is something he doesn’t take for granted. Knowing he has someone on Angel’s side looking out for him, even here, comforts him a little. Husk recalls all those years ago, meeting Jade for the first time. She had just been some scared kid, lost in a world she couldn’t comprehend after just losing one she was only beginning to understand. Now, she’s more comfortable, more sure of herself. She has her place, her role. It took a lot of work to get there, and Husk is proud of her for it. Despite all that, she’s still who she is. He wonders how much trouble she’s been getting up to since he last saw her. He missed this place, his people, even if he’s grown unreasonably fond of the Princess’s hotel and its crew.
A thought suddenly occurs to him, and he sits up a little straighter, “Jade. You think you could do me a favor?”
Jade quirks a brow up, amused, “That depends. What is it?”
“You still pickpocketing?”
She snorts, “Never stopped.”
“Could you… reverse pickpocket?” She blinks at him, and okay, he might be a bit more than tipsy, so he tries wording it again, “Could you sneak something into someone’s pocket?”
“I mean, probably?” Jade shrugs, “Never tried, but it’s probably a similar principle. Why?”
“Think you could play message in a bottle for me? Get word to Angel?”
Understanding clicks, and Jade grins brightly, “I think I can do that.”