MidReal Story
Walter white ends up in hazbin hotel
Scenario: Walter white ends up in hazbin hotel
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I had no idea how I got here.
One second, I was walking through a parking garage in Albuquerque, the New Mexico sun beating down on the back of my neck as I cradled a pistol in my grip.
The next thing I knew, I was standing in the middle of what appeared to be a hotel lobby.
But it was nothing like the stately lobbies you’d find in the Albuquerque Plaza or the Los Pollos Hermanos headquarters.
The floor was cracked, and the chandeliers above swayed back and forth as if there were a gale-force wind blowing through the place.
A miasma of sulfur and brimstone clung to the air, making it hard to breathe.
I coughed, one hand over my mouth as I looked around, trying to get my bearings.
My eyes fell on an open door to my right, sunlight streaming in from the outside.
When I ventured closer, however, I saw nothing but a blank wall—or at least, it looked like a blank wall until a series of eyes suddenly blinked open, staring at me from behind the bricks.
I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest.
What the hell was going on?
The last thing I remembered was being shot by Jack Welker’s Uncle… what the hell was his name?
I couldn’t remember.
Everything after that had been a blur of darkness and pain.
And now here I was—in Hell?
A door swung open behind me, and I turned to see a girl step into the room.
She looked young, maybe in her early twenties, with red skin and white hair.
Her dress was pink and white, like some demented ballerina’s tutu.
“Hello there,” she said, giving me a little wave.
“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel.
My name is Charlie Magne.
May I ask who you are?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but all that came out was a fit of coughing.
I clutched at my throat, trying to clear it, but the sulfur fumes were too thick, too acrid—
The girl stepped forward, concern etched across her face.
“Are you okay?
I’m so sorry about the smell—it takes a while to get used to it, but—”
“No, no, it’s not that,” I said, finally regaining my voice.
I cleared my throat and tried again.
“I just…need a minute.”
She nodded, her eyes filled with sympathy.
“Of course.
I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”
I’m sorry, but do you know who this is?”
A tall guy dressed like a 1940s gangster stepped forward, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Charlie shook her head.
“I’m not sure.
He just showed up out of nowhere.
I think he might be another sinner, here for redemption, but—”
“I am most certainly a sinner,” I said, stepping away from the wall of eyes before turning my attention back to the group.
“But as for redemption…”
I shook my head.
I didn’t know if that was possible.
Not after everything I’d done.
Not after everything I’d been through.
As soon as I spoke, all eyes turned toward me.
At first, they all just stared, as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing, but finally, a round of whispers broke out around the room.
“Is that…Walter White?”
“He looks like him…”
“Do you think it’s really him?”
I frowned, my stomach twisting into knots.
Somehow, it seemed the others already knew who I was—probably because they’d seen me on the news.
After all, not many high school chemistry teachers turned into meth manufacturers—not even in Hell.
But I couldn’t worry about that now.
Right now, all I could worry about was catching my breath.
And hoping that the others would leave me alone long enough to figure out what was going on.
Finally, after what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, my coughing fit subsided.
I took a deep breath and steadied myself against the wall as I tried to slow my racing heart.
When I was finally able to look up again, all eyes were still on me, waiting for me to speak.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know what to say.
“Are you a sinner?”
the girl named Charlie asked.
I shook my head.
“I don’t know.”
“What did you do?”
one of the other demons called out.
“What were your sins?”
“I—” I started to reply, but then I stopped.
I needed to be careful about what I said—after all, I didn’t know who these people were or where I was.
For all I knew, this could be some kind of elaborate trap.
But then again, if this was Hell, it probably wouldn’t be that elaborate…
“I think he might have been a murderer,” someone else suggested.
“Or maybe a rapist…”
“Or maybe he did both!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Charlie said before anyone else could speak.
“If he wants redemption, he will have it.
That is the purpose of this hotel, after all.”
I shook my head.
“I appreciate that,” I said.
“But as much as I would like to believe that my sins can be redeemed…”
I shook my head.
I couldn’t tell them the truth—not really.
Not about who I was or what I’d done.
Even if they thought they already knew.
I had done plenty to earn my place in Hell.
After all, how many people had died because of me?
Directly or indirectly?
I’d lost count.
And then there was the meth—the blue crystal that had ruined so many lives.
So no, as much as I might want to let these demons think the worst of me, the truth was…
I shook my head.
“Maybe redemption isn’t possible for someone like me.”
Charlie’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Someone like you?
What do you mean?”
Before I could reply, a flash of color caught my eye.
A girl with long hair and multiple arms was skittering across the lobby on all fours—or at least she seemed like a girl at first glance.
As she got closer, however, I realized she was actually some kind of spider demon—the lower half of her body ending in eight arachnid legs.
She looked up at me with a friendly smile.
“Hello there,” she said as she approached me.
“You must be the new guest!”
“The name’s Charlie Magne,” the red girl said as she stepped forward to join us.
