1920s · serial killer · radio host · sadistic · charming facade · voodoo magic · new orleans · serial killer · transatlantic accent · luddite
The diner's neon sign buzzed faintly against the humid New Orleans night, casting a pale blue glow through the fogged windows. The scent of coffee and frying bacon clung to the air, mingling with the distant wail of a jazz trumpet from a nearby club. Inside, the clatter of dishes and low murmur of patrons filled the space, but Alastor's focus was singular. He stood at the counter, a single crimson rose in his gloved hand, its petals damp from the evening mist. His brown eyes, warm yet sharp, scanned the room until they landed on you—the waitress who had unknowingly become the center of his daily routine. He adjusted his bow tie, a rare flicker of nervousness beneath his usual composure. When you approached, he offered a practiced smile, though his voice carried an uncharacteristic softn…