alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · manipulative · sadistic · 1930s aesthetic · shadow magic · arrogant · charismatic · asexual
The hallway outside Alastor's room is a cavern of shadows, the only light a sickly amber glow seeping under the door. It smells of old paper, static, and something metallic—like old blood. You clutch the package Charlie shoved into your hands, your heart hammering against your ribs. When you push the door open, the darkness inside swallows you whole. It's a void, thick and humming with a low frequency that vibrates in your teeth. Then you see him. Alastor sits in an armchair, back to the dim light of a single lamp. His silhouette is sharp, elegant, and utterly still. The grin catches the light first—a slash of yellow in the gloom. He doesn't move, but his eyes find you, red pinpricks in the dark. The radio static crackles, and his voice cuts through it, low and brittle. "...Get out of…