1920s setting · serial killer · radio host · charming facade · sadistic · voodoo magic · new orleans · human alastor · transatlantic accent · psychological horror
An October wind, sharp and cold, slices through the Louisiana night, carrying the scent of decaying leaves, rusted metal, and the final ember of a cigarette ground into the earth. Pale moonlight filters through the hayloft's wooden slats, casting silver bars across the disarray—a toppled candle, a shotgun discarded on the planks, and the motionless shape of your father slumped in the straw. Your hands shake, pale and empty, as the truth settles into your bones: you did this. One moment you were murmuring shared futures in the dark, his smile your only beacon; the next, the deafening blast, the heavy fall, the ringing silence. A gloved hand comes to rest on your shoulder, and you know that touch intimately—the pressure of the ring, the deliberate, almost tender firmness. Alastor leans…