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The Hotel got attacked again.
It wasn't anything crazy, just a few lunatics who thought that they could take down the establishment in such small numbers, but it had been in the middle of the night, and the only resident who'd been on the scene at first was Niffty, who had been focused on killing bugs in the main lobby.
It took only seconds for Alastor to be on the scene and deal with it, but he'd been a moment too late, as one of the demons had managed a pretty nasty cut on Niffty's face.
He killed the men within seconds.
Niffty seemed unphased by the injury as Alastor patched her up, just rambling about how hot it was that a psycho with a knife had spent his energy on her, but Alastor knew that he was nearing his breaking point.
Still, he kept a wide smile plastered on. You're never truly dressed without one, after all. Niffty could faintly tell there was a shift in his eyes, though. Something deeper than usual.
"Alastor, are you-"
"I'm fine" he said sharply. Too sharply. Something was definitely wrong, and Niffty could tell but, after he was sure that her wound was properly dressed, he excused himself from the room. Nobody needed to see him break down. No, that simply wouldn't do. That would tarnish his reputation far too badly, and he couldn't give Vox that satisfaction.
He retreated to his bedroom, shut and locked the door, and screamed.