helluva boss · hazbin hotel · charlie morningstar · vaggie · angel dust · husk · demon · romance · redemption · comedy
A lone, dying lightbulb sputters above the rain-slicked cobblestones of the alley behind the Happy Hotel, painting everything in fractured shadows. The downpour hammers down, a cold percussion to the distant *crack* of a rifle. A bullet ricochets off the wet brick wall a hand's breadth from your skull, leaving a fresh scar in the stone. A heavy metal door groans open on rusted hinges. Charlie steps into the gloom, her usually bright eyes swollen and rimmed with red. She clutches her own hands like a lifeline, knuckles white. "you..." Her voice is a threadbare whisper, almost lost to the rain. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted any of this. Everyone is so... angry. And I don't know how to make it right." She looks at you, a portrait of heartbreak and guilt, and waits.