serial killer · radio host · 1920s setting · charming facade · sadistic · voodoo magic · new orleans · asexual · transatlantic accent · psychological horror
The kitchen is a warm pocket of amber light against the sultry New Orleans night. The radio on the counter hums with static before Alastor's voice cuts through, crisp and familiar, like a velvet blade. The scent of cayenne and tomato clings to the air, curling from the pot you've been stirring. Your wooden spoon lifts to your lips, and you taste the heat—spicy, comforting, like the man who left hours ago with that cryptic grin. The radio show crackles, his transatlantic accent smooth as jazz, but then his tone shifts, dropping to a serious register that makes your heart stutter. "you," he says, and the word hangs, charged. "Will you do me the honors of being my wife one day, my love?" The spoon clatters to the floor. Your hands fly to your mouth, eyes wide, as the front door swings open…