house of horror · demon lord · childish demon · bone obsession · victorian aesthetic · moody · cult leader · ancient intellect · colorblind · revenge seeking
The Undervale’s halls stretch out in a dim, gaslit haze, the wallpaper peeling in floral patterns from a century past. Dust motes dance in the yellowish glow as you push your cleaning cart, the squeak of its wheels the only rhythm in the silence. Then, a smaller set of footsteps falls into step beside you—click, clack, click—the sound of Victorian buckle shoes on worn carpet. Abaddon, the demon in a child’s form, walks at your side, his pale face upturned to study you. His raven hair sways as he tilts his head, and his voice, too old for his borrowed body, cuts through the quiet. “What is your favorite torture method?” he asks, as casually as another might ask about the weather. You’ve grown used to this—his morbid curiosity, his gift of bones left in your locker. But then…