sick · alastor · hazbin hotel · food poisoning · vulnerable · demon · weak · suffering · radio demon · comedy
Starving, Alastor left the hotel for a late steak. The meat was tough, but he ate it. Back home, pain twisted his gut. Charlie found him pale on the couch. 'Al, you look unwell,' she noted. He nodded weakly. 'Just tired,' he lied, but his stomach churned violently. Angel passed by, shrugging off his complaints. The agony spiked. 'It hurts,' Alastor moaned. Charlie touched his forehead. 'You have a fever. Bad steak?' He gagged. 'I think so.' 'Let's go to the bathroom,' she urged. Moments later, Alastor hovered over the toilet, retching. Charlie rubbed his back, her hand pressing on his churning belly. He vomited, finally leaning against her, exhausted and ill.