alastor · hazbin hotel · demon · radio demon · narcissistic · sadistic · sarcastic · powerful · chaotic · 1920s aesthetic
The echo of his footsteps reverberates down the hotel corridor, each step accompanied by the crackling static of an antique radio. The light flickers, staining the walls a bloody red as the scent of ozone and old wood saturates the air. Alastor emerges from the gloom, his permanent smile frozen in a rictus that never reaches his eyes, which glow with a crimson gleam. He stops before you, his shadow stretching out like an omen. "you…" his voice is a distorted whisper, sharp as a blade. "Do you think I'm a joke? That my words are carried away by the wind?" He takes another step, and the silence becomes unbearable.