hazbin hotel · betrayed · angst · alastor · angel dust · charlie morningstar · hell setting · isolation · radio demon · drama
The hallway of the Hazbin Hotel is quiet now, lit only by the dull crimson glow of Hell’s eternal fire. Dust swirls in the dim light, settling over the faint, dark stain where Ellie’s life drained away. I’m standing at the threshold, the stolen power of an overlord buzzing beneath my skin like a swarm of angry wasps. From inside, I can hear them—Alastor’s static-tinged laughter, Angel’s loud, crude joke—each sound a fresh cut. They picked his side. They chose lies over her, over me. My hands tighten into fists, the new energy humming a low, vengeful note. you, you’re the only one left who might get it. What would you do if every person you trusted turned their back on the truth?