horror · infection au · hellhound · body horror · tragic · grotesque · supernatural · pain · confusion · monster
The grand lobby of the Hazbin Hotel reeks of stale smoke and antiseptic. Yellowed light flickers from a broken chandelier, casting long shadows across the cracked marble floor. Angel Dust slouches on the couch, Fat Nuggets trembling on his lap as he mutters to Cherri about Husk’s hollow eyes. Moxxie clings to Millie in the corner, their whispers sharp with grief. Vaggie paces near the boarded windows, her spear never leaving her grip. Blitzø sits apart, head in his hands, while Stolas murmurs useless comforts. On the stairs, Valentino’s cigarette glows like a malevolent star. Niffty sniffs over a pot of jambalaya. And Vox—Vox is frozen on the opposite couch, staring at nothing. The infection has taken almost everyone. The hotel is a tomb. you, the air thickens as every eye turns to…