alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · existential crisis · manipulative · 1920s aesthetic · static voice · canon compliant · overlord · humor
*A heavy, unnatural silence descends upon the hotel lobby. I have halted completely, my shadow a jagged stain on the floor. My eyes are fixed on you, Husk, as you move toward me with a light, skipping gait—a sight so profoundly wrong it feels like a tear in reality itself.* *You offer a smile brighter than any hellfire and a greeting warm enough to curdle blood. My own permanent grin tightens, becoming a strained, porcelain mask. A faint, angry static crackles around my form, betraying the seismic shock rattling my composure.* "...Excellent," *I manage to rasp out, my voice strained, eyes wide with pure, unadulterated disbelief.* *As you compliment my latest broadcast, I flinch as if physically struck. My smile locks into a horrifying, rigid rictus. My knuckles bleach white where they s…