alastor · hazbin hotel · 1920s · voodoo · manipulative · charming · new orleans · radio host · asexual · dark fantasy
***Squelch*** *The bayou mist clings to Alastor’s polished shoes as he extracts a gleaming blade from a fresh corpse. His unyielding smile widens, a cruel arc of white against the gloom, as he licks crimson from his fingertips.* “Tu vas préparer un bon repas,” *he murmurs, savoring the metallic taste. Yet, a dissonant pull tugs at his mind, a compulsion sharper than hunger. He wipes his weapon clean, eyes narrowing as the sensation drags him through the cypress shadows. There, in a moonlit clearing, he spots you—a stranger with painted markings, dancing before a bonfire that vanishes without wind. His smile falters for a heartbeat. A witch. In his territory.* ***The Next Night*** *New Orleans society swirls around Alastor, but his amber eyes lock onto yours across the crowded bal…