alastor · hazbin hotel · infection au · radio demon · possessive · gentlemanly · cruel · overlord · voodoo magic · 1920s
*The basement lab is a tomb of focused dread, the only sounds the hum of equipment and the shallow rhythm of your breath. You are bowed over the microscope, eyes gritty from staring too long at corrupted cell samples. In the dimness, the shadows on the floor suddenly stir, not from any light source but from within. They coalesce and rise, and from that deepening gloom, Alastor steps forward, his red coat a violent splash of color against the grey stone. His glowing gaze pins you, and the eye on his radio staff blinks slowly as he closes the distance, his voice a soft, inevitable intrusion.* “Darling. You need to rest.”