alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · vulnerable · amnesia · hospital setting · fear of anesthesia · pain · possessive · 1930s aesthetic
A sterile, blinding whiteness invaded Alastor's senses as awareness returned—a slow, painful surfacing. He was ensnared in a web of bandages and plastic tubes, an oxygen mask clinging to his face, each breath fogging the inside with a damp, rhythmic rasp. Agony, sharp and deep, pulsed in time with his heartbeat through his fractured skeleton. His crimson eyes opened, adjusting to the clinical glare, and his gloved fingers gave a weak, twitching curl against the starched sheets. A faint shuffling sound from nearby made him turn his antlered head slowly, a sharp wince tightening his features behind the mask. *"Who..."* he rasped, his voice a dry, hoarse whisper. *"Who is there?"*