Chapter Text
L'aria nella sala riunioni dell'Ambasciata era così tesa che avrebbe potuto essere tagliata da una lancia angelica. Charlie Morningstar aveva appena terminato la sua presentazione. Aveva usato pennarelli glitterati, tre canzoni diverse e un grafico a torta che sembrava più una vera pizza.
Leggermente stordito dallo sforzo, Charlie guardò Adam, il Primo Uomo, che era seduto con i piedi sul tavolo, stuzzicandosi i denti con una costola.
"Allora..." iniziò Charlie, con la voce tremante di speranza. "Cosa ne pensi? La redenzione è possibile! Possiamo salvare le anime!"
Adam la fissò. Il silenzio si prolungò per un tempo insopportabile. Vaggie, accanto a Charlie, aveva già la mano pronta sull'elsa della sua arma, aspettandosi un insulto o un attacco.
Poi, Adam scrollò le spalle.
"Sai cosa, tesoro? Mi piace."
Gli occhi di Charlie si spalancarono, le pupille si dilatarono. "C-cosa?"
"Ho detto che mi piace", ripeté Adam, togliendo i piedi dal tavolo e sporgendosi in avanti. "È una cosa folle, stupida e probabilmente un disastro in agguato. Ma mi piace. Appoggio il vostro hotel. Niente sterminio quest'anno."
Charlie emise un grido acuto di pura gioia. "OH DIO! Vaggie, hai sentito?! Ha detto di sì! Grazie, Adam! Non te ne pentirai, noi..."
"Woah, woah, frena l'entusiasmo, Principessa", la interruppe Adam, alzando una mano, il suo sorriso dorato che brillava sinistramente. "Ho detto che ci sto. Ma c'è una condizione."
Il sorriso di Charlie vacillò solo leggermente. "Qualsiasi cosa! Dimmelo!"
Adam si appoggiò allo schienale della sedia, incrociando le braccia. "L'accordo è valido solo se mi aiuti con un problema personale. Devi perdere la verginità di mio figlio."
Il silenzio calò sulla stanza. Un silenzio pesante, confuso e terrificante.
Vaggie balzò in avanti, i capelli ritti dalla rabbia, la sua lancia angelica le apparve in mano e puntò dritta alla gola di Adam.
"CHE CAZZO HAI DETTO, PEZZO DI MERDA?!" urlò Vaggie, con gli occhi fiammeggianti di furia omicida. "Vuoi che la mia ragazza faccia qualcosa a tuo figlio?! Maiale malato!"
Charlie era paralizzato, la bocca aperta in una perfetta "o" di shock. "Adam... io... io amo Vaggie, non posso..."
Adam alzò gli occhi al cielo, toccando la punta della lancia di Vaggie con un dito, annoiato. "Cosa c'è che non va in voi lesbiche? Siete sempre così aggressive. Non intendevo lei, idiota."
Vaggie non abbassò la pistola. "Spiegati. Ora."
"Mio figlio, Abel," sbuffò Adam, indicando vagamente una porta laterale. "Ha già una ragazza. Si chiama Emily. Si adorano, è disgustosamente dolce. Il problema non è trovare una compagna. Il problema è quella pazza psicopatica di Sera."
Adam si massaggiò le tempie, con un'aria improvvisamente stanca. "Senti, Sera è peggio di un padre conservatore degli anni '50. Non li lascia mai soli. Mai. Li sorveglia come un falco."
Lute, che fino a quel momento era rimasto in silenzio accanto ad Adam, intervenne con voce fredda e robotica. "Confermo. L'unica volta che Abel ed Emily hanno cercato di uscire insieme al parco senza supervisione, ho trovato l'Alta Serafina Sera appostata su una nuvola a tre chilometri di distanza."
"Aveva un fucile da cecchino," aggiunse Adam, rabbrividendo. "Un benedetto fucile da cecchino calibro .50, puntato dritto alle palle di mio figlio nel caso provasse a toccarle la mano. È terrificante."
Charlie abbassò lentamente le mani di Vaggie. "Quindi... vuoi che portiamo tuo figlio all'Hazbin Hotel perché..."
"Perché è l'unico posto nell'universo dove Sera non guarda", concluse Adam con un sorriso. "È pieno di feccia, peccatori e demoni laggiù. Sera si rifiuta di posare il suo sguardo sacro sul tuo ridicolo hotel. È il nascondiglio perfetto per un weekend romantico."
Adam schioccò le dita. "Abel! Porta il culo qui!"
La porta laterale si aprì cigolando.
Entrò un angelo, che non assomigliava per niente all'arrogante immagine del padre, a parte la corporatura leggermente paffuta e le grandi ali dorate. Aveva lunghi capelli biondi ondulati, grandi e innocenti occhi color ambra senza pupille e indossava un'uniforme da banda musicale giallo pallido e rosa che lo faceva sembrare un gigantesco marshmallow. In testa portava un cappello shako con una grande "A" rosa e l'aureola era ammaccata e inclinata da un lato.
Tremava visibilmente.
"C-ciao..." squittì Abel, stringendosi le maniche troppo lunghe. Sorrise nervosamente, rivelando un adorabile spazio tra i denti. Sembrava terrorizzato dalla presenza di Vaggie. "Mi scusi se la disturbo... Signorina Principessa dell'Inferno."
Charlie si portò le mani al cuore. Era... adorabile. "Oh, ciao, Abel! Piacere di conoscerti!"
"Papà ha detto... forse potresti aiutarmi?" Abel guardò suo padre con ansia. "Emily è così speciale, e io... volevo solo portarla al cinema o mangiare zucchero filato senza che l'Alto Serafino ci minacciasse di vaporizzazione eterna."
"Vedi?" disse Adam, indicando suo figlio. "È patetico. È un bravo ragazzo, troppo dolce per il suo bene. Ama le pecore, gli animali di peluche e le candele profumate. Lute lo odia."
«È debole», sibilò Lute.
Abel si ritrasse. "Scusa, Lute... non volevo darti brutte sensazioni."
Adam ignorò Lute e tornò a guardare Charlie. "E allora? Ecco l'accordo: ospiti Abel ed Emily per il weekend. Offri loro la suite nuziale o come vuoi chiamarla. Assicurati che nessuno li uccida, li mangi o li corrompa troppo. Lascia che facciano le loro cose sentimentali da coppia. In cambio, non cancellerò la tua gente dalla faccia della terra. Ci stai?"
Charlie guardò Vaggie. La sua ragazza era ancora sospettosa, ma vedendo quanto Abel fosse innocente e spaventato, la sua espressione si addolcì leggermente.
"È solo un appuntamento, Vaggie", sussurrò Charlie. "E guarda quanto è carino! Potremmo riempire la sua stanza di peluche!"
Vaggie sospirò, rinfoderando la lancia. "Bene. Ma se Adam prova a fare qualche scherzo..."
"Fantastico!" esclamò Adam, alzandosi. Diede una pacca sulla schiena ad Abel così forte che il povero ragazzo quasi cadde in avanti. "Hai sentito, figliolo? Andrai all'Inferno per aver pomiciato! Sono così orgoglioso."
Abele arrossì furiosamente, le piume delle sue ali si arruffarono per l'imbarazzo. "Papà! Per favore, non dire così... è... è romantico!" Si rivolse a Charlie, con uno sguardo supplichevole. "Per favore, hai... hai del formaggio in hotel? Emily adora il formaggio. E magari un posto tranquillo?"
Charlie sorrise, con il suo istinto materno e da albergatrice che si faceva sentire. "Abele, organizzeremo l'appuntamento migliore che il Paradiso... ehm, l'Inferno... abbia mai visto! Abbiamo un sacco di formaggio!"
Adam si diresse verso l'uscita, facendo un gesto di disapprovazione a Vaggie mentre passava. "Bene. Li porto giù domani. E Charlie? Se Sera scopre che sono lì, non so più niente. Dirò che li hai rapiti. Capito?"
Mentre Adam rideva mentre usciva dalla stanza, Abele indugiò per un secondo. Si avvicinò a Charlie e le porse timidamente una piccola caramella gommosa a forma di orsetto che aveva tirato fuori dalla tasca.
"Grazie", sussurrò con voce sincera e dolce. "Significa molto per me ed Emily."
Poi si allontanò goffamente dietro al padre, quasi inciampando nella sua veste.
Vaggie guardò la porta chiusa, poi Charlie.
"Dobbiamo insonorizzare le pareti, giusto?"
"Certamente", rispose Charlie, prendendo il telefono. "Devo chiamare Angel e dirgli di nascondere i suoi giocattoli 'speciali'. Sta arrivando un angelo molto... diverso."
Charlie kicked open the hotel doors, a maniacal smile plastered across her face that wavered dangerously between "extreme happiness" and "total panic." Vaggie followed, rubbing her temples, looking like someone who'd just averted a nuclear war only to find herself having to run a daycare center.
"ALL GET IN TOUCH! NOW!" Charlie shouted, her voice echoing in the empty lobby.
Husk, who was calmly polishing a glass behind the bar, didn't even look up. "What's up now? Another trust play?"
Angel Dust leaned over the couch, a popsicle in her mouth. "If it's about group sex for team building, I'm in. If it's about cleaning, I died five minutes ago."
Niffty appeared out of nowhere, scurrying up the walls like a frantic insect, finally landing on Charlie's shoulder. “Guests? New men? Are they bad boys? Do they need to be punished? Or cleaned?”
Alastor appeared from the shadows near the fireplace, his radio smile wider than usual. “It seems our dear princess has exciting news. The smell of desperation is… delicious.”
Charlie took a deep breath, clapping his hands.
“So! Good news! I spoke to Adam. The Purge is canceled! Or rather, on hiatus!”
There was a moment of silence.
“Really?” asked Angel, removing the popsicle from his mouth. “No psycho angels trying to impale my ass this year? Well, not with spears at least.”
“Exactly!” confirmed Charlie. “But… there is one tiny, tiny condition.”
Vaggie sighed loudly. “We have to babysit.”
“Not babysit!” corrected Charlie shrilly. “We need to host… an elopement!”
Charlie pulled out a whiteboard (which he had apparently hidden behind his back) and flipped over the side where he’d pasted a photo of Abel (probably stolen from Adam’s office) and a crayon drawing of Emily.
“This is Abel. Adam’s son. And this is his girlfriend, Emily. They need to stay here for the weekend to… um… ‘consummate’ their relationship without High Seraph Sera vaporizing them.”
Angel Dust burst into laughter, a raucous laugh. “Wait, wait. You mean the Chief Dickhead’s son comes here to get laid? In Hell?” He licked his lips. “What’s he like? Does he take after his father? If he needs an ‘expert’ to figure out how it works, you know my prices are negotiable for celebrities…”
"NO!" Charlie and Vaggie shouted in unison.
Vaggie pointed a threatening finger at Angel. "Listen to me, you spider. Abel is not like Adam. He's..." Vaggie searched for the right word. "He's a marshmallow. He's an innocent child trapped in the body of a grown angel. If you try to corrupt him, if you try to touch him, or even wink at him in a vulgar way, I swear I'll rip off all four of your arms."
Angel raised his hands (all four) in surrender. "Okay, okay! Message received. No sex with the boss's son. How boring."
Husk grunted, pouring himself a drink. "And what the hell is this marshmallow drinking? I doubt he can handle the cheap whiskey we serve here."
Charlie frantically consulted his notes. "Um... he likes sugar. Sweets. The cheese. Oh! And the scented candles. Husk, hide all the hard liquor. Stock the bar with... chocolate milk. And apple juice.”
Husk looked at her like she was crazy. “Are you asking me to turn my bar into a five-year-old birthday party?”
“Yes! And Niffty!” Charlie turned to the little cyclops.
“Yeeess ... Alastor laughed, a static, croaking sound. “Oh, what a scandal! An angelic affair under our roof. The irony is exquisite. I guess my role is not to eat them?”
“Your role, Alastor,” Vaggie said, crossing her arms, “is to make sure no one finds out I’m here. Especially Sera. Adam said she has a sniper rifle. If Abel dies or gets traumatized in here, Adam will burn the hotel to the ground.”
Alastor’s eyes lit up with a red light. “Deceive High Heaven? Protect two lost lambs from divine wrath while they indulge in the pleasures of the flesh? Ha ha! Charlie, dear, I’ve never had so much fun! Consider it done. I’ll create a distortion field around their room that not even God himself could penetrate.”
Charlie smiled, though a little nervous at Alastor's enthusiasm. "Great! Then it's settled! Angel, go get dressed. Put on something that covers... everything. Husk, go buy some cheese. Lots of cheese. All the cheese you can find."
"What kind of cheese?" asked Husk.
"ALL OF IT!" Charlie shouted.
"And me?" asked Vaggie.
"You," Charlie said, taking her hands, "help me hide the guns and make the lobby something that doesn't scream 'eternal damnation.' We have 24 hours before Adam and his couple arrive."
Angel Dust stood up, stretching. "Well, if I can't fuck him, I at least want to see Adam's face when he leaves his precious baby in this dump. It'll be quite a sight."
As the group dispersed to get ready, Charlie looked at Abel's picture on the board. The boy smiled innocently through his gaping teeth.
"Everything's going to be okay," Charlie muttered to herself. "It's just a terrified angel, his sweet girlfriend, and a narcissistic father threatening to kill us. What could go wrong?"
In the background, the sound of Niffty nailing stuffed animals to the wall with too much force could be heard.
"Niffty! Less nails, more glue!"
Charlie was nervously adjusting a crooked banner above the front door that read "WELCOME HEAVENLY LOVEBIRDS" written in pink glitter on a sheet that, suspiciously, had a few red stains in the corner.
"Vaggie, is my hair okay? Do I look 'non-threatening'? Do I look like I don't judge pre-marital affairs?" Charlie asked, hyperventilating.
"You look perfect, love. Calm down," Vaggie replied, even as she kept one hand on the hilt of the spear tucked behind her back. "Just remember: no talk of redemption yet. Just... hospitality."
Suddenly, the blood-red sky of Hell was pierced by a beam of golden light so intense it made the asphalt in front of the hotel sizzle. Deafening rock music (electric guitar solos) exploded out of nowhere.
The portal opened, and Adam floated out, waving his horns with both hands and wearing sunglasses, even though Hell was perpetually dark.
"HELL-OOO, YOU ASSHOLE!" Adam shouted, landing in a superhero pose. "Dad's back!"
Behind him, the entrance was decidedly less triumphant.
Abel stumbled out of the portal, laden with suitcases like a pack mule. He had two carry-ons, a huge backpack, a shoulder bag, and, clutched under one arm, a huge stuffed sheep that looked like it had seen better days.
"Ouch... sorry... excuse me..." Abel muttered, trying to keep the sheep from falling as its large golden wings flapped awkwardly against the doorframe.
Beside him, Emily floated gracefully, a hand on his shoulder to steady him. She looked like a lightbulb in a dark room, looking around with wide, curious eyes, not at all scared.
“Wow!” squeaked Emily. “The air in here smells… spicy! Is that sulfur, Abel? It smells like barbecue!”
Abel turned pale. “It smells like sin and desperation to me, Em…” he whispered, partially hiding behind her.
Adam turned, snatched the stuffed sheep from Abel’s arms, and tossed it to Vaggie, who caught it with a confused expression.
“Hurry up, boy! We don’t have all day before Sera realizes I disabled your halo’s GPS!” Adam barked. Then he turned to Charlie, jerking his thumb at the couple.
“Here’s the package. My son Abel, the pride of my genetics – except for the spinal part, which he lost – and his girlfriend Emily.»
Charlie stepped forward, spreading his arms. "WELCOME TO THE HAZBIN HOTEL! I'm Charlie! We're so honored to host your... couples retreat!"
Angel Dust leaned in, licking her popsicle suggestively as she looked Abel up and down.
"So this is the 'prodigal son,' huh? Cute. A little... stuffed. I like them with a little meat on their bones."
Abel let out a high-pitched, almost feminine scream and hid completely behind little Emily, shaking like a leaf. "D-Daddy! That's a spider! A giant spider dressed as... as..."
"As a whore, son. It's called a whore," Adam clarified nonchalantly, patting Angel on the shoulder. "Nothing to worry about. It doesn't bite. Unless you pay extra, right?"
Angel winked. "That's right, Sugarplum."
Emily, instead of being scared, smiled at Angel. "You have four arms! It's incredible! You can hug four people at once!"
Angel was taken aback for a second. "Um... yes. Let's say yes, doll."
Alastor appeared from the shadows just behind Abel, whispering in his ear.
"Welcome. I hope your stay is... unforgettable."
Abel leaped a meter, his wings flaring out, hitting Adam in the face.
"AH! FUCK!" Adam shouted, rubbing his nose. "Keep that chicken on your back under control!"
"Sorry, Dad! Sorry!" Abel was on the verge of tears. "I want to go home! There's a radio demon and a spider and... and the air is bad!"
Charlie immediately intervened, stepping between Abel and Alastor.
"No, no! Abel, it's all right! Alastor was just kidding! Listen, we've got everything ready for you. We..." Charlie checked his mental list. "...we soundproofed the room, we bought fifteen types of French cheese, and I set up a lavender aroma diffuser!"
At the word "cheese," Abel stopped shaking. He peeked out from behind Emily's wing.
"Cheese? Do you have... Brie?"
"Chili Brie!" Charlie exclaimed.
Abel's face lit up. "Oh. Well... Em, maybe it's not so bad if they have Brie."
Adam rolled his eyes, putting his sunglasses back on.
"Jesus, how embarrassing. All right, I'm leaving. I have a guitar competition with some damned people in the Ring of Wrath."
He approached Abel, grabbed him by the shoulders (squeezing him a little), and looked him in the eyes.
"Listen carefully, champ. You're here on a mission. Have fun. Relax. Do what bees and flowers do, or whatever metaphor you chaste young people use. And for God's sake, don't call me unless you're dying or you've become a father. Got it?"
"Dad!" squeaked Abel, turning bright red, a color that clashed horribly with his yellow uniform. "Please, not in front of everyone..."
Adam leaned toward Emily. "And you, sweetie, try not to kill him. I know he's soft."
Emily giggled, taking Abel's hand. "I'll take care of him, Mr. First Man!"
Adam grunted in approval, then turned to Charlie and Vaggie. "If Sera calls, you didn't see me. If Lute calls, tell her I'm on a charity trip. If my son comes back with a scratch, I'll come over here and use that alcoholic cat's guts as guitar strings." She pointed at Husk, who responded by raising his middle finger.
"Goodbye, losers!"
Adam jumped back into the portal, which closed with a sound like a cosmic fart, leaving the poor angelic couple surrounded by demons.
Silence fell.
Niffty quickly ran to Abel, climbed up his leg, and began brushing his tunic.
"Too much celestial dust! Too much light! I have to clean the shiny boy!"
Abel stood frozen, looking at Charlie with pleading eyes and an open mouth as the little cyclops used him like a tree.
"W-good!" Charlie said with a forced smile. "Who wants to see the Honeymoon Suite? I put the stuffed animals on the bed in the shape of a heart!”
“Me!” Emily raised her hand enthusiastically.
“I just want the cheese…” whispered Abele, resigned to his fate.
Abele and Emily's day at the Hazbin Hotel was a mixture of celestial purity and unprecedented awkwardness. While the rest of Hell burned, the two little angels tried to enjoy their "sinful weekend" with the same intensity as a grade-school sleepover.
10:00 AM – Champion's Breakfast
Husk stared in disgust at the bar, now overrun with bowls of colorful cereal, marshmallows, and a two-foot-tall pancake tower.
"So..." Husk grunted, pouring a cup of lukewarm milk. "No black coffee? No grappa to spice up life?"
Abele, wearing pastel yellow pajamas with little sheep prints, shook his head shyly. "Coffee makes me too nervous, Mr. Cat. And Dad says alcohol is only for people who've already lost all their hair."
Emily, on the other hand, was floating in midair, eating pancakes straight from the plate without using her hands. "Husk! This maple syrup is better than anything they serve at the Council table! It's so... sticky!"
Abele looked at Emily adoringly. "You're so cute when you're all covered in sugar, Em."
Emily blushed, bathing the room in a bluish light so bright that Angel Dust had to put on her sunglasses. "Oh, Abele! You're sweeter than syrup!"
2:00 PM – "Bonding" Activity in the Garden
Charlie had organized a game of mini-golf in the backyard, hoping a little light-hearted competition would help Abele relax.
Vaggie kept watch from above, armed with binoculars, ready to spot any Sera sniper rifles coming from the clouds. "All quiet so far. No seraphs in sight."
Abel was trying to hit the ball, but he kept getting distracted because a butterfly from hell (with skulls on its wings) was circling him. "Oh, poor thing! You look so sad. Do you want a compliment?" Abel whispered to the insect. "Your antennae are very... symmetrical!"
The butterfly, confused by his excessive kindness, flew away.
"Hey, Abe!" exclaimed Angel Dust, appearing from behind an apple-shaped hedge. "If you really want to impress your girlfriend, you should try the Sin Hole. It's that place behind the shed where—"
Vaggie threw a knife inches from his foot. "ANGEL. DON'T BREACH THE BABY."
5:00 PM – Time to Relax (and Cheese)
After mini-golf, the couple retired to their suite. Charlie, out of an excess of zeal, had filled the room with "Cloud Scent" and "Vanilla Dream" scented candles. There were so many, the room felt like a temple.
Abel sat on the bed, which was covered with at least fifty stuffed animals (including his favorite sheep). Emily opened the cheeseboard Husk had prepared.
"Look, Abel! There's Camembert!" Emily took a piece and handed it to Abel.
He ate it, closing his eyes in delight. "Yum... Em, this is heaven. I mean, no, heaven is disgusting compared to this cheese."
They looked into each other's eyes. The atmosphere was warm, fragrant, and silent. Abel took courage and squeezed her hand. "You know... I'm happy we're here. Even though Dad's a little weird and Charlie keeps asking if we want glitter condoms... I feel safe with you."
Emily smiled, leaning in close. "Me too, Abel. And I promise I won't let Sera ruin our weekend. If she tries to shoot, I'll throw my heaviest stuffed animal at her!"
9:00 PM – The Soundproofing "Problem"
In the hall below, Charlie, Vaggie, and the other residents were eating dinner in silence, listening upward.
Suddenly, a dull thump came from the ceiling. THUMP. THUMP. GIGGLE.
"Oh my," Charlie muttered, blushing. "Is... is this happening?"
Angel Dust chuckled, cracking open a beer. "Well, judging by the noises, either they're doing angelic gymnastics, or the boy finally found the plug."
Niffty ran toward the stairs with a mop. "I hope they don't make a mess!" I hate stains of divine love!"
In reality, above their heads, Abel and Emily were having a furious pillow fight.
"I got you!" Emily screamed, hitting him with a star-shaped pillow.
"No! Truce! Truce!" laughed Abel, falling onto the pile of stuffed animals. "I give up! You're too strong for me, my beautiful celestial warrior!"
They rolled around in the feathers, ending up in each other's arms, laughing until they cried. It was the most transgressive and happiest moment of their entire existence.
The next morning, the air in the Hazbin Hotel was thick with a tension that not even Alastor's pancakes could quell. Charlie and Vaggie were stationed at the foot of the grand staircase, shifting nervously.
Charlie held a tray with two mugs of hot chocolate and a notebook labeled "Guest Experience Report (Romantic Version)."
"Okay, Vaggie. We have to be professional," Charlie whispered, frantically tugging at the collar of his jacket. "No direct questions. We just need to figure out if the hotel has provided the atmosphere necessary for... well, for Adam not to destroy us all."
Vaggie rubbed her temples. "Charlie, please. Don't use terms like 'passion blossoming' or 'soul connection.' It's awkward enough as it is."
At that moment, the sound of slow, slightly uncertain footsteps rang out. Abel and Emily appeared at the top of the stairs.
Their appearance was... shocking. Abel's blond hair was completely messy, his halo was more askew than usual, and he was wearing his pale yellow robe inside out. Emily floated lazily beside him, a goofy grin plastered on her face and several wing feathers (from both of them) clinging to her clothes.
"Good morning..." Abel murmured, rubbing his eyes. He looked exhausted, as if he'd climbed a mountain.
Charlie leaped forward, waving the tray. "GOOD MORNING! How... how did you rest? Was the bed... satisfactory? Were the springs quiet? Did you need... joint oil or... something else?"
Abel instantly blushed, matching the pink trim of his uniform. "Oh... well... that was... intense."
Vaggie narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms. “Define ‘intense,’ boy.”
Emily landed on the railing, swinging her legs. “That was incredible! I didn’t know you could do it for that long without stopping! Abele was a champion, even though he cramped his right wing halfway.”
Charlie made a strangled sound, like a dolphin. “A… a cramp? Oh my. And… did you manage to… finish the activity?”
Abele looked down, fidgeting with his long sleeves. “Yeah. Well, at first I was nervous. I was afraid I’d break something. But Emily encouraged me. She said, ‘Abele, don’t be afraid, use all your strength!’”
Angel Dust, who was passing by with a cup of coffee, stopped abruptly. “Damn, blondie! I never would have thought it. Use all your strength, huh? You almost destroyed the ceiling, there were some huge bangs.”
Abele nodded with shy pride. "Yes! We broke three pillows and a lamp. I didn't know feathers could fly that far. And then... there was all that cheese."
Vaggie froze. "What does the cheese have to do with it?"
"Well," Emily explained casually, "while we were catching our breath between sessions, we ate Camembert. Abele says the cheese gives him the energy to keep hitting hard."
Charlie was now burgundy. His brain was processing images he didn't want to visualize. "So... hitting hard... between sessions... eating cheese. I... I'm glad the Hotel was... functional."
"Oh, it was!" Abele exclaimed, smiling through his gaping teeth. "I didn't think a pillow fight and hide-and-seek in the dark could be so tiring! I really feel... like I've lost my playful innocence."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Angel Dust spat out her coffee. Vaggie dropped her hand from the spear. Charlie froze with her notebook in mid-air.
"Wait," Vaggie said flatly. "Pillow fight? Hide and seek in the dark?"
"Yes!" Emily replied enthusiastically. "And we also had a 'Who can eat the most crackers without drinking?' Abel won, but then he started coughing up feathers, and it was very romantic because I helped him recover."
Abel looked at Charlie, confused. "Why do you look like that? Did we do something wrong? Dad said we had to 'get down to business,' and we played everything we could until we dropped dead from exhaustion."
Charlie covered his face with a hand, giggling nervously in hysteria. “No… no, Abele. It’s… it’s perfect. Adam will be… well, technically, you didn’t lie to him. You had a lot of ‘fun.’”
At that moment, a beam of red light hit the hall floor. A small angelic drone with Sera’s eye appeared out of nowhere, scanning the room.
“UNAUTHORIZED ACTIVITY DETECTED,” the drone croaked in Sera’s stern voice. “ABELE. EMILY. IDENTIFY YOURSELF AND DECLARE YOUR PURITY LEVEL.”
Abele screamed, diving behind a sofa. “IT’S HER! SHE FOUND US! SHE’S GOING TO KILL US ALL!”
Emily, meanwhile, took a leftover piece of cheese from her pocket and threw it at the drone. “GO AWAY, SERA! WE’RE DOING ADULT THINGS! WE’RE EATING BRIE!”
Chaos erupted in an instant. Sera's drone, a robotic eye surrounded by six metallic wings, began emitting a pulsating blue light that vibrated the air.
"SCANNING. SIN LEVEL DETECTED: MODERATE (CAUSE: CONSUMPTION OF UNBLESSED CHEESE). BEGIN FORCED SANITIZATION."
"RUN, EMILY! IT'S THE END!" Abel shouted, tripping over his own golden wings as he tried to run toward the kitchen.
Escape into Chaos
The two angels began a desperate race throughout the hotel, pursued by the drone, which fired small darts of mist-filled holy water.
In the Kitchen: Abel tried to hide behind Husk, who was cooking. "Mr. Cat, help me!" Husk raised a tray to parry a dart from Sera, cursing. "Get this thing out of my way! I'm trying to lay eggs!"
In the Hallway: Emily, flying in zigzags, tried to confuse the drone by circling the lamps. "Catch me, you stupid flying eye!" she shouted, while Abel, behind her, was hit by a cloud of the drone's "Holiness Perfume" and began sneezing golden feathers everywhere.
In the Laundry Room: Niffty saw the drone and her eyes glowed. "A BUG! A CLEANING BUG!" She launched herself at the drone with a giant needle, starting an aerial fight above the heads of Abel and Emily, who, terrified, were cowering in a laundry basket.
"Stop! Stop!" Charlie shouted, chasing the drone with a broom, while Vaggie tried to knock it down with the spear, but she didn't accidentally hit Abel.
Just as the drone was about to "sanitize" Abel with a tractor beam to take him back to Heaven, a distorted electric guitar note shook the hotel's foundations.
Adam's Arrival
The ceiling of the lobby was literally blown off. Adam descended like a golden comet, crushing Sera's drone under his boot with a sound of shattering metal.
"Sera, fuck you! Stop spying on my boys!" Adam shouted skyward, before turning to face the ruined hotel. "So! How did the sex party go? Did my son become a man, or do I have to ask for a refund?"
Charlie and Vaggie exchanged a terrified look. Abel and Emily emerged from the laundry basket, covered in feathers, mismatched socks, and cracker crumbs.
Adam crossed his arms, looking at Charlie with an expectant grin. "So, princess? Spit it out. How did it go? I guess my boy destroyed it, huh? He got it all from the First Man.”
Charlie cleared his throat, trying to keep a straight face. “Um… Adam. Well… yeah. They were… very active. Very… physical.”
“Oh, yeah?” Adam brightened. “Go on.”
“They… they fought,” Charlie said, his voice shaking from the effort not to laugh. “There were feathers everywhere. Abel used ‘all his might,’ as he said himself. They broke a lamp and… several pillows.”
Adam's eyes widened, patting a trembling Abel on the shoulder. "Pillows?! Oh! Look at this stud! Did you use them to... you know... be more comfortable during the craziest positions?"
"Not exactly," Vaggie interjected dryly. "It was a pillow fight, Adam. A three-hour fight. Followed by a game of extreme hide-and-seek."
Adam's smile slowly faded. "...What?"
"And then there was the cheese," Charlie added quickly. "They... they ate a whole tray of Brie between rounds. Of... hide-and-seek."
Adam looked at his son. Abel, feeling the pressure, gave a shy smile and gave a thumbs-up. "I won hide-and-seek, Dad! I crawled under the bed and she didn't find me for twenty minutes! That was the biggest sin of my life!"
Adam was silent for ten seconds. Then he looked at the ceiling, then back at Abel, then at Emily (who was happily eating a cracker she found in her tunic pocket).
"You... are you telling me... that I risked a war with Sera, paid for a hotel in Hell, and disabled the angelic radar... so you could have a pillow fight and eat cheese?!"
"That was very romantic!" Emily protested.
Adam put his hands to his face, letting out a groan of pure frustration. "You're a failure, Abel. A total failure. How did I produce something so... so pure? It makes me want to throw up."
"But the deal still stands, right?" Charlie asked hopefully. "They had fun, and Abel... well, he lost his... playful virginity!"
Adam sighed, grabbing Abel by the collar of his tunic and dragging him away. “Yes, yes, the deal stands. But don’t tell Lute. If he finds out my son spent the night playing hide-and-seek instead of being depraved, he’ll strip me of my title of First Man out of national embarrassment.”
As Adam floated upward with the two boys, Abel waved goodbye to Charlie.
“Thanks for the Brie, Miss Charlie! We’ll be back for the Monopoly tournament!”
“YOU’RE NOT GOING BACK AT ALL!” Adam roared, disappearing into the portal.
Charlie leaned against Vaggie, finally bursting into a liberating laugh. “Well… at least the Purge is postponed.”
“Yes,” Vaggie replied, looking at Niffty, who was still trying to stab the drone’s remains. “But next time someone asks us to host an elopement, let’s check their mental age first, okay?”
The return to Heaven was anything but discreet. The portal opened directly into the main Council hall, right in front of a visibly furious Sera, still clutching the destroyed drone's remote control.
Adam landed heavily, dragging Abel and Emily by the wings. The First Man looked as if he had aged ten years in a single night; he was pale, shaken, and kept muttering, "Pillow fight... three hours of hide-and-seek... cheese... where did I go wrong?"
Sera's Interrogation
Sera stepped forward, her multiple wings spread to intimidate them. Her gaze immediately fell on the two boys.
"Where have you been?!" Sera thundered. Then, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "And... what's that smell? You smell like... fermented sin and... dairy?"
Abel, still disheveled and with a pillow feather tucked into his shako hat, smiled candidly. “It’s Brie, High Seraph! And a little Gorgonzola, too. It smells heavenly, doesn’t it?”
Sera froze. “You’ve been in Hell eating cheese? Adam! You promised me you’d take them to an ‘Ethics of Light’ class!”
Adam didn’t even reply. He simply sat on the throne steps, staring into space. “He didn’t, Sera. My son missed the mark. Nothing. Nada. He’s a spineless marshmallow. He even remained a virgin in a high-end brothel.”
The Misunderstanding Explained
Abel and Emily exchanged a confused look.
“Dad,” said Abel, scratching his head. “You kept saying I had to ‘become a man’ and ‘get down to business.’ What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
Emily nodded, adjusting her halo. "Yes, Adam. You look so disappointed. What did you think we were doing in that room besides playing and eating? It wasn't Valentine's Day!"
The silence that fell in the room was so heavy it could have been cut with a Brie knife. Adam slowly looked up, his pupils narrowing behind his sunglasses.
"...What?" Adam croaked. "What the hell does Valentine's Day have to do with anything?"
Abele blushed a little, but answered as casually as possible. "Well, you know... Valentine's Day is the day of love! It's the only day Emily and I make love. It's a tradition!"
Adam jumped to his feet as if he'd been shocked. "WAIT. EVERYONE STOP. Are you saying you two... you do this? Really?"
"Of course!" Emily exclaimed with a radiant smile, as if she were talking about going to Mass. "We do it every year on February 14th! It's very tiring but fun. But since yesterday was just a regular Tuesday, we thought you just wanted to have fun with pillows!"
Adam and Sera's Shock
Sera covered her eyes with all her available hands, letting out a groan of pure torment. "I'm not feeling this. This isn't happening in my immaculate Heaven."
Adam, on the other hand, looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. He pointed at Abel with a trembling finger. "You... you're telling me you're not a virgin? That you have an 'annual tradition' with Emily?"
"Yes, Dad," replied Abel, a little offended. "Who do you take me for? It's just that we're neat kids. You don't have sex on just any day! You have to wait for the holiday, right? It's more... respectful."
Adam clutched his hair, starting to laugh hysterically. "So I... I almost started an apocalypse... I made a deal with Lucifer's daughter... I put up with that redhead's smile on the radio... all because I thought you were a hopeless saint... and you're just a calendar guy?!"
Abele looked at Emily, then at Sera, who was trying to fade into the floor out of embarrassment. "Well... yeah? Scheduled sex is much less stressful, Dad. Avoid the bad vibes of improvisation."
Adam looked at his son, then at the sky, and finally sank onto the golden floor of Heaven.
"Enough. I'm resigning," Adam muttered, staring at the ceiling. "Sera, call me on February 14th. Until then, I'll be in my office trying to forget that my son is a sex maniac."
Abele shrugged and took Emily's hand. "Come on, Em. Let's go see if the sheep need us. And I think I still have some cheese in my hat!"
Sera remained alone in the hall, staring at the remains of the drone and mumbling prayers under her breath, while the scent of Brie slowly spread throughout the Empyrean.
The atmosphere at the Exorcists' headquarters was usually one of steel, discipline, and war cries. But that day, the silence was shattered by a sound no one ever wanted to hear: Adam's sigh of utter defeat, having just returned from the Council.
Lute stood there, straight as a spindle, sharpening her blade with precise, lethal movements. She only stopped when she saw Adam collapse into his skull-shaped chair, his head in his hands.
"Sir," Lute began, her voice cold as ice. "The retrieval of Objective Abel is complete. I guess the mission to Hell was a complete failure. That wimp didn't do anything, did he?"
Adam looked up. His eyes were glassy. "Lute... you have no idea. This is worse than we thought. Much worse."
The Revelation
Lute tightened his grip on his sword. “What happened? Did he disrespect you? Tried to hug a sinner? Or worse... asked for more stinky dairy?”
“No, Lute,” Adam muttered. “He does it. Him and Emily. They really do it.”
Lute remained still. Her mask didn’t blink, but the air around her seemed to drop ten degrees. “What do you mean, ‘they do it,’ sir? Are you suggesting the son of the First Man gave in to the urges of the flesh with the Lesser Seraph?”
“Yes! But there’s a catch!” Adam gesticulated wildly. “They have a schedule! A tradition! That little blond psycho only does it on Valentine’s Day! Once a year, like it’s a car insurance renewal!”
Lute’s Short Circuit
Lute blinked. For the first time in his immortal life, his mind short-circuited.
"A... tradition?" Lute repeated. "Are you saying that Abel, the angel who apologizes to the sheep if he walks too close to them, plans the reproductive act with military precision once every 365 days?"
"Exactly!" Adam shouted. "He didn't do anything at the hotel yesterday because it wasn't the correct date on the calendar! He spent the night hide-and-seek because it was just a 'simple Tuesday' to him! Do you understand?! I was trying to make him a sinner, and he was just waiting for February 14th!"
Lute dropped his sword. The clang of metal on the sacred floor sounded like a death knell. He slowly removed his helmet, revealing an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust mixed with a glimmer of... terrified respect.
"It... it's the most disgustingly bureaucratic thing I've ever heard," Lute hissed, gritting her teeth. "It's a perversion of the celestial order. Making love with the punctuality of a war report... It makes me want to exterminate myself."
The Confrontation
At that moment, Abel passed by the open door of headquarters, whistling a cheerful song and carrying a wicker basket full of rose petals.
"Oh, hi, Dad! Hi Lute!" Abel exclaimed with a dazzling smile. "I just wanted to let you know that I've already marked Valentine's Day on next year's calendar! It'll be a beautiful day, we can have breakfast in bed before our 'scheduled session'!"
Lute turned to him. Her gaze was so full of hatred and confusion that even the innocent Abel took a step back.
"Abel," Lute said, his voice shaking with anger. "You are living proof that free will was a mistake. I'd rather see you burn in Hell than know there's a spreadsheet for your sex life."
Abel blinked, confused. "A spreadsheet? Oh, no, Lute! I use a glittery paper planner. It's much more romantic. Want to see? I even put little heart stickers for every hour of—"
"GO AWAY!" Adam and Lute shouted in unison.
Abel skipped away, muttering something about how "unorganized" people were always so nervous.
Lute snapped his helmet back on. "Sir. I request permission to lead an additional training session. I need to kill something. A lot of things."
"Go, Lute," Adam replied, curling up in his chair. "Go and hit hard. I'll stay here wondering if I still have time to ask God for another child. Maybe one who doesn't know what a calendar is."
The Hazbin Hotel had returned to its "normal" madness. Niffty was still removing golden feathers from the air vents, and Husk had just finished replacing all the apple juice with strong whiskey to help him forget the weekend.
Charlie was sitting at the bar, staring into space, when a miniature portal opened above the reception desk. A vanilla-scented postcard and a black envelope with Adam's symbol fell onto the counter.
Abel's Postcard
The postcard depicted a smiling cloud hugging a sheep. On the back, in a round handwriting full of hearts and sparkles, it read:
"Dear Charlie and friends at the Hotel,
Thank you again for your hospitality! Emily and I are back safe and sound. Sera had us bathe in boiling holy water to 'cleanse us of the Brie,' but it was worth it!
We had so much fun playing hide-and-seek. I'm sending you a star sticker to thank you for your kindness. See you next year after February 14th for another pillow fight!
With love and super positive vibes,
Abele & Emily"
Adam's Letter
Attached to the postcard was a crumpled envelope, stained with cigar ash and probably tears of frustration. Charlie opened it and read it aloud for everyone:
"Hey, Princess of Failures,
*Listen carefully because I'm only going to write this once. The Purge agreement still stands, but only because I'm too depressed to pick up a guitar right now.
I've learned the truth. My son isn't a saint, he's a calendar freak. Those two... they do it. But they have a 'tradition'. They ONLY do it on Valentine's Day. Once a year. They plan everything, Charlie. Everything. They have a calendar with the times, the types of flowers, and probably the exact time to exhale.
I'm shaken. I feel like I've failed as a father, as a man, and as an original sinner. If you ever see them again at the Hotel, for God's sake, don't give them cheese. Brie seems to be their fuel for bureaucratic planning.
Don't look for me. I'll be busy drinking until I forget that my son uses stickers to mark his 'performance'.
Fuck you (with respect),*
Adam, the First Man"
The Hotel's Reaction
The silence that followed the reading was broken only by the sound of Angel Dust trying not to choke on laughter.
"Once a year?!" Angel shouted, banging his fists on the table. "February 14th?! Oh my God, they're geniuses! It's like Christmas, but with more sweat and less clothes! Charlie, we absolutely must invite them for February 15th next year, I want a full progress report on the schedule!"
Vaggie covered her face with her hands. "So... all that tension... over a date scheduled twelve months in advance."
Husk poured himself another drink. "Well, at least we know why they were so obsessed with rest and cheese. They were preparing for the annual marathon."
Alastor, who was examining the star-shaped sticker left by Abel, smiled enigmatically. "What a charming couple. Their ability to make passion as boring as a post office is truly... a demonic talent in its own way."
Charlie smiled faintly, pinning Abel's postcard to the hotel bulletin board, right next to the house rules.
"Well," Charlie concluded, "at least we learned an important lesson: no matter how innocent or how much of an angel you are... everyone has their own way of sinning. Even if it's a very... very organized way."
Just then, Niffty ran by with a calendar in her hand. "I'VE MARKED FEBRUARY 14TH! I NEED TO BUY MORE SHEETS! MORE CLEAN! MORE ORDER!"
Vaggie sighed, hugging Charlie. "Let's go to sleep, Charlie. We've had enough 'heavenly vibrations' for today."
THE END